A Man With No Center
by darth-healer
Summary: Sakura doesn't belong to anyone, no matter what price they can pay. Even Madara Uchiha's offer to fund her incredibly expensive research doesn't give him the right to own her. But Madara Uchiha is the kind of man who always gets what he wants and there is no price he won't pay.
1. Chapter 1

Sakura tugged at the collar of her blouse, stifled by the starch and the wool blazer on top of it. She much preferred her sheath dresses with her doctor's coat over top, but tonight she needed to look a little more professional than that. The annual founder's banquet was being held, and though she didn't usually attend (seeing as she was not a member of any founding family), Sakura found herself perched on the steps of the Uchiha Manor.

She was herded through the doors with a group of other immaculately dressed guests – some she recognized, some she didn't. She knew the ones her own age – the ones she had gone to school with. Sasuke, her former teenage crush was there, of course. This was his home after all. The Uchiha family was as prestigious as they come, and Sakura understood that this was part of Sasuke's appeal to her. Still, she couldn't help but stare a little longingly when she caught sight of his moony face from across the room.

Quickly, she looked away before those old feelings rushed back. Instead she settled her gaze on Shino, who she remembered only fuzzily. He had been quiet back in grade school, even more so once they'd gotten older. In all his reservation, Sakura never sought a deeper friendship with him and felt no compulsion to speak with him now.

He was speaking quietly with Neji, who was Sakura's true target today. Neji's family had money, and Sakura needed money. Dr. Haruno needed money, rather. Her genetic research, while wildly popular, was expensive. The Konoha Times had covered a study of hers on the genetic variations in the founding clans of Konoha and why their eye colors were so pure and striking – particularly the Hyuugas.

The coverage made her a bit of a celebrity in the town, as did her reputation as one of the best doctors in the area. It was well known that she worked directly under Dr. Tsunade Senju of the Senju family, who was of course attending the banquet as well.

In fact, tonight was a strategic move on Tsunade's part. She had invited Sakura to tag along to tonight's banquet as her plus one so that she could try to convince one of the other families to fund their genetic research. The town of Konoha was rife with what both Sakura and Tsunade agreed were genetic conditions that had yet to be studied by any medical professional. Tsunade suspected whatever these conditions were must be somehow rooted in Konoha's genealogy.

Sakura wasn't sure what to think, but she couldn't help but notice some of the stranger 'symptoms' amongst the different families. The Hyuugas with their strange and milky eyes often had bouts of unexplained tunnel vision. The Naras were all plagued by some sort of jaundice that cast a shadowed look to their skin that was unsettling at first when you couldn't quite pinpoint what was wrong. The Uchihas often had inexplicable rages and migraines for no discernable medical reason.

For all of these reasons, both Sakura and Tsunade thought investing in genetic research would be a lifesaver in the near future when these conditions, unmanaged as they were, became a real problem. Something needed to be done before then, and with Konoha fully supporting Dr. Sakura Haruno and her intriguing eye color study, that might just be possible.

They just needed a little money.

Sakura eyed Neji from the other side of the grand foyer. He was illuminated by the glittering chandeliers above and the way the light danced off the filigree of the fine gold paper that lined the walls surrounding them. Even with her impressive doctor's wages, she couldn't help but gape at the opulence of it all – the thick velvet drapes of maroon, the sparkling black marble floors. It reeked of excess, Sakura thought with a wrinkle of her nose, but the taste was impeccable.

Neji's long hair was tied at the nape of his neck, and Sakura could see as she approached him that he was as warm as she was. Wisps of his damp hair clung to his neck. She stared for a moment at the paleness of his skin and the way the light refracted off the sheen of sweat on his neck. He turned to face her.

"Dr. Haruno," he said softly, his unnerving milky gaze sharp on her before it flicked to Sasuke on the other side of the room.

Sakura's childhood crush on Sasuke was a well-known fact, but that had been many years ago and it annoyed her that people couldn't seem to let it go. Neji of all people should have understood. She had been flirting with him for weeks, after all. His family ran many of Konoha's newspapers, including the Times, which had just published an article about her study.

Neji hadn't worked directly on the project, but she had seen him many times during the process, and she had hoped that in all the flirtatious glances and sly smiles she had given him, he would have realized that she had moved on. That she wanted someone else now.

Sort of. Neji's family had the money for her research, and he was handsome enough. There was no reason not to like him, right? Sakura couldn't quite assuage her guilt. Her gold digging, no matter how noble its motivation, was a miserable sin to commit. She was better than that. She could love Neji, if he were open to it. She didn't have much to lose, did she?

"Call me Sakura," she insisted, her voice low. Shino cleared his throat and Sakura nodded politely to him.

"Sakura," Neji said, sounding a little unsure of himself. "Are you Sasuke's plus one?"

She quickly shook her head. "It's been years since I've spoken—" she cut herself off. There was no need to explain herself. "I came with Dr. Senju."

Neji's gaze flicked to Tsunade. She felt ice in his stance, but she didn't know why.

"She's a little old for you, don't you think?"

Sakura paled and swallowed. A waiter brushed past them with a tray of champagne flutes. Sakura snagged one and sipped to wet her parched mouth. Rumors of an inappropriate relationship between Sakura and her attending doctor weren't unheard of, but no one had ever spoken about it so frankly to Sakura before.

"We don't have that kind of relationship," she said pointedly, the timbre of her voice dropped even lower. A slow disdain for Neji whipped across her skull like a sharp wind.

"Forgive me," he said, though it didn't sound much like he cared if he was forgiven or not.

Irritated, Sakura crossed her arms and looked away. She no longer felt like flirting with him, though she still needed an investor and Neji was still the prime candidate.

"Excuse me," she said to both Shino and Neji, ducking her head with flippant apology. She moved away from them quickly, hoping that time apart from Neji would bolster her waning interest in him.

She turned, downing the rest of her champagne. As she lowered the empty flute, her gaze caught on a pair of red eyes watching her from the top of the stairs.

No guests had ventured up the stairs – it wasn't polite to wander through someone else's home. He stood alone up there, dressed in a sharp navy suit and silky black tie. Sakura should have felt embarrassed to have caught his gaze like that, but she was unable to tear her eyes away.

Madara Uchiha. She recognized him easily and was intimidated by his attention. Why was the patriarch of the Uchiha family looking at her? The Uchiha family owned nearly all of the textile factories and farmland around Konoha. They employed nearly everyone in the town, making them easily the richest and most powerful family. It was tacitly understood that The Uchiha family was more than a little corrupt, and Sakura wasn't exactly sure what that entailed.

It had been one reason she ultimately let go of her girlhood crush on bad boy Sasuke.

But she couldn't let go of Madara's gaze. It rooted her in place and left her feeling cold from the tips of her ears to her toes. There was something about the stern set of his mouth that made her feel patronized, and the disapproval, both unwarranted and undeserved, made her frown.

Ripping her gaze away, she headed for Tsunade, who stood near the bar, of course. She tossed back an ounce of whiskey as Sakura neared her.

"Neji is getting on my nerves," Sakura seethed.

Tsunade rolled her eyes. "I hate to break it to you," she said as she gestured for the bartender to give her another whiskey, "but all of them are going to get on your nerves. At least Neji is somewhat tolerable."

Sakura wanted more than _tolerable_, but beggars can't be choosers.

"He thinks you and I are an item," Sakura said dryly, glancing out to the crowd of people that had begun to mingle near the staircase. Madara was descending now, his face a well-practiced and warm smile. He greeted the crowd at the bottom of the stairs.

"He _wishes_," Tsunade murmured. "This whole town is filled with perverts and morons."

As if on cue, Jiraiya ambled into view. For once he was dressed nicely in a tailored suit and his usually unkempt hair had been pulled back into a neat ponytail. Though he didn't belong to any of the founding families, his closeness with the Uchiha family often allowed him to attend events like these even when he wasn't invited.

"What are you doing here?" Tsunade asked dryly and he approached with a wicked grin.

"I came to see if my two favorite girls needed some company," he teased, winking at Sakura as he moved to Tsunade's side.

Tsunade gave Sakura a knowing look. Discreetly, Sakura moved away from them. Tsunade was embarrassed by her sordid trysts with Jiraiya, and Sakura didn't blame her. The man was a pervert.

Irritated afresh, Sakura shrunk back against the wall. Her plans foiled, she felt desperately alone. Social functions like this weren't her scene. She wanted nothing more than pizza and a soft blanket and a good novel.

It was too early to leave, too early to admit defeat. She should try Neji again, but she needed more time to recuperate from him.

She slunk along the perimeter of the party, her eyes scanning for another tray of champagne flutes. She caught one and sipped, already feeling the dizzying effects of the bubbles and the warmth the alcohol spread through her bones.

With her wits still mostly in tact, she remained a wallflower, sipping champagne and watching the banquet unfold before her. It was truly a splendid party in a gorgeous home. She was lucky to be able to attend such a party when she had no real merits to, no pedigree like the rest of these meatsacks.

Sakura almost felt contempt for these families and how they poised themselves above everyone else in Konoha. If she didn't know many of them personally, she might have.

"Dr. Haruno."

At the sound of her name, Sakura turned. The rich timbre belonged to a man nearly twice her size, and as she craned her neck to look up at his face, realization dawned on her.

Dryness found her throat again, stealing whatever words she might have conjured.

"I don't recall inviting you," he said, though he didn't sound unfriendly. "Tell me who you belong to."

She blinked at him, remembering his cold gaze from before. Did he not want her here?

"I-I'm Tsunade's plus one," she stammered, her gaze flitting around his broad chest, searching for a familiar face to rescue her. She only spotted Sasuke, still on the other side of the room, though through some miraculous twist of fate, he chose that moment to look up from his conversation with Neji (of all people) and meet her gaze.

"That's not what I asked."

Confused, Sakura brought her gaze back to Madara's face. He was looming over her now, and it sort of frightened her.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," she said, hating her meekness. She was a doctor, and a damn good one. She straightened her spine, but it didn't make her feel any more confident.

"No?" Madara asked. "So you must not belong to anyone, then."

"Of course not," she breathed. No one could own her.

A predatory grin unfurled on Madara's face. The sight of it sent a wash of coldness down her spine.

"Pardon me," he said, his voice the epitome of etiquette and grace. "I've been very rude. I'm Madara Uchiha. Welcome to my home, darling. I hope you enjoy the party."

/

Disturbed by the encounter with Madara, Sakura was sufficiently purged of her irritation with Neji. Trying to shake thoughts of Madara's red eyes from her mind, she squared her shoulders and found Neji near the staircase.

"Dr. Haruno," he said again as she approached. Another flute of champagne had found its way to her hand. By now she had lost count of how many she'd consumed, but she knew that there was plenty of alcohol to warm her blood and calm her nerves.

"Neji," she said boldly. "Please, call me Sakura."

She fluttered her lashes and looked down at his mouth. They had known each other for so long. Why did this feel so awkward?

"Something in your eye?" he asked her.

A stab of annoyance cut through the blurring effects of the alcohol. Ignoring it, she lifted her hand to cup his bicep.

"No, silly," she said, but the words didn't have the charm she'd intended.

Then, a hand gripped her elbow from behind. Before she could turn to face whoever was accosting her, a warm and solid presence was against her back.

"Dr. Haruno," said a hauntingly familiar voice, which rumbled deeply in the chest that was pressed against her back. "I think Mr. Hyuuga might be right."

Firm hands gripped her arms and turned her around to face him. Too inebriated to do much other than blink, she stared at him. He peered into her eyes, and it was then that she was struck by just how handsome he actually was. Though he was old enough to be her father (maybe even grandfather), there was a youthful and boyish charm in the crinkle of his eyes that made Sakura nearly swoon.

Fortunately, he was physically holding her upright. "No," he said with a gentle shake of his head. "I don't see anything those stunning eyes of yours except for maybe a little disdain. Not for me, I hope."

She blinked again, and pulled her arms from his grasp.

"For Neji," she almost said, but stopped herself just in time. She didn't dislike Neji. But she could concede that by now she was only after his money.

"Not for you," she said instead, still a little unnerved that Madara Uchiha was deigning her worthy of his attention.

"Good," he said, and without any further explanation, he began to drag her up the stairs.

/

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded, sobering up while he dragged her by the elbow. Her voice was kept low – the crowd of people at the base of the stairs could still hear.

She felt a tight rage coiling inside her. Who did he think he was that he could just drag her around as if she were nothing more than a doll for him to play with?

"I've decided that you belong to me now, Dr. Haruno," he said without glancing back at her. His fingers were hot where they curled around her arm. "I'm going to show you why."

Against all her better instincts, Sakura was curious.

/

"Do not flirt with Neji again."

The command was uttered with such authority that Sakura couldn't help but readily agree. Her head bobbed with an affirmative nod before she could remember that she _needed _to flirt with Neji.

"Good," Madara said, pleased by her acquiescence. "You're very bad at flirting, but even so Neji does not deserve your attention."

"Doesn't he?" she asked in surprise. She was the gold digger. He was supposed to be the victim.

Madara sighed, and it was then that Sakura noticed she had been brought to a study – _his_, she presumed. It was minimalistic, but expensively so, and it smelled strongly of bourbon and vanilla. He stood in front of his desk, his ass braced against it, arms crossed over his chest.

"Of course he doesn't," Madara insisted.

"And you do?" she asked dryly, brash even as she was sobering up.

"Yes, Dr. Haruno," he said impishly. "Because I have eyes and ears everywhere and I know the true reason you chose to flirt with Neji tonight and it has nothing to do with any attraction toward him."

She narrowed her eyes at him, repulsed by the idea that he might have been spying on her or Tsunade.

"Is that so?" she asked, tapping her toe. She watched as his amused gaze traveled from her face down the length of her body to her black pumps.

"Did you think you could seduce him with those mediocre flirting skills?" he teased. There was a seriousness in his tone, but she wanted to laugh when the velvety rich sound of his chuckle washed over her.

"It's not like that," she insisted. "Neji and I, we could be something."

Madara shook his head with a condescending cluck. "I don't think so, dear," he said, reaching for her. Sakura hesitantly allowed him to tug her closer by the lapel of her blazer. Standing inches away from one another, she could feel the heat from his chest.

He tilted his head and watched her while she grappled for something to say. She felt disrespected for having been brought here and for his accusations and the way he had touched her. Still, as before when she had first seen him, she was captured by his gaze, frozen.

"Kiss me," he said. "I could tell from looking at you across the room that your kisses are worth a million dollars apiece."

As if spelled into obedience, Sakura stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her closed lips to his. An illicit chill ran through her. This man was dangerous, old enough to be her father, one of Sasuke's family members. Kissing him was like kissing a grinning shark.

"Maybe half a million," he said when she pulled away.

She gripped his lapel and pulled him quickly into another kiss. This time she was eager to please. Her lips parted, her tongue prodded, and then she was swept away by a current of warmth and arousal led by the callous way his hands found their way to her ass and squeezed, and the probing exploration of his tongue.

It was too much for her to stand, but Madara held her up by her ass, lifting her so she could straddle his waist.

"Ten million," he bartered when she pulled away from him, gasping. Her skin felt electric; her heart pounded in her chest where it was pressed against his. She had never kissed anyone like this before, never even dreamed of it.

"Yes," she agreed, the word pouring into his mouth as she captured his lips with hers again. She delighted when he hummed appreciatively into the kiss. "Another ten million for that one. Twenty million and five hundred thousand dollars. When can I expect my payment, Mr. Uchiha?"

With no warning, he dropped her to her feet, spun her around, and forced her to bend over his desk. Sakura gasped when she felt his hard erection against her ass, and hissed when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and not so gently tugged until she was looking at him.

Part of her was furious at being manhandled in such a way. Another darker and more sensual part of her was thrilled.

"Sakura," he murmured softly – a sharp juxtaposition against the rough way his fingers had tightened into her scalp. "May I call you Sakura?"

Her eyes met his, hers glistening with smarting tears. She could refuse the request. He seemed to earnestly be awaiting her answer.

Madara Uchiha was a man with money and power. He was more capable than Neji was of funding her research. Not only that, but he was gloriously primal – an image of pure masculinity standing over her like this. His dark hair fell in thick waves around his shoulders, his pale skin seemed to glow tautly over the rough scrape of his jaw.

Sakura could suddenly think of nothing but what it might feel like to press that face to the now throbbing place between her legs. The sordid thought brought fire to her cheeks, which seemed to amuse her captor. He pressed his erection tighter against her – she could feel its impressive hardness straining against both his pants and hers.

"Call me whatever you want," she said, her words catching on the arousal that was quickly dousing her entire body.

Abruptly, he pulled her upright, holding her back tightly against his chest. His hand came to her throat, gentle and tender where his calloused fingers brushed her chin and turned her face to look at him.

He was damn near hypnotic this close. Dark, curly lashes framed the most lurid and captivating eyes she had ever seen – even Sasuke's, so similar but with none of the flame and mischief she was drowning in now. She was caught in his vice grip, but instead of moving away, she was magnetically drawn to his mouth, those sexy, smirking lips that needed to be kissed right now.

"Sakura," he said, rolling the syllables over his tongue. His eyes darted around her face, curious as they appreciatively drank her in. "I saw your picture in the paper." He released his grip on her chin, but held her against his chest with an arm wrapped tightly around her waist. She could still feel his dangerously growing erection. "The moment I saw you I felt that I'd been done a great injustice by not having been included in your study."

The hammer of her heart began to thud harder. "I didn't mean to insult you, Mr. Uchiha—"

"Sakura, darling, please call me Madara." For emphasis, he pressed his erection harder against her.

She muffled her flustered and aroused groan and cleared her throat. "I didn't think that the head of the Uchiha family would be able to make time for something so trivial," she explained, but the truth was that she had avoided the Uchiha family save for Mikoto, whom she trusted with her life, and Izumi, who was about as non-threatening as an Uchiha could be.

"If I had known how striking your eyes were, you would have been my prime candidate for the study," she added, sensing that her answer was unsatisfactory to him when he frowned at her.

His gaze met hers. Something intense and inexplicable was in his eyes. The heat of it terrified her, but then he stepped away from her. Instinctively, she backed up, inviting him to bring back the warmth of his body. The crotch of her suit was damp now, and the throb between her legs stole most of the attention she should have been giving to getting some money out of him.

Another amused chuckle settled around her like a soft blanket. "Sit, Sakura," he said, gesturing to the leather cushioned chair opposite his desk. It was less of a chair and more of a sofa, large enough for four of her to sit on. She slunk down into the chair, watching raptly as he crossed to the other side of the desk and sat down.

He reached into one of the lower drawers in his desk and pulled out a rather expensive looking bottle of bourbon. He pulled the glass stopper from the bottle and took a swig directly from its mouth.

"Would you like some?" he asked, holding the bottle out for her.

She stared hesitantly for a moment. The effects of the champagne were starting to go away. She should be sober for this. She was obviously in danger, though what kind she didn't know.

But a sinister voice in her head told her to reach for the bottle anyway. She took a sip, pressing her lips to the glass where Madara's had just been. She swallowed, wincing as heat whorled down into her stomach.

"Why do you need money, Sakura?" Madara asked as he placed the stopper back in the bottle and stored it back in its place.

Caught off guard by the question, she blinked. Honesty was the only answer, though she hated to come clean and admit that she was here solely for gold digging purposes.

"To fund my genetic research with Dr. Senju," she explained.

"More eye color studies?" he quipped, his tone teasing in spite of the serious nature of her work.

"No," she said with a scowl. "I think the incestuous way the founding families kept their bloodlines pure for generations led to an increased number of genetic diseases that's now concentrated in Konoha."

Madara now seemed caught off guard. His red and horrifying eyes widened at the implication, blazing furiously. Sakura shrunk back in the chair, intimidated by his sharp gaze.

"I think it's important that we get a leg up on that research now," she continued, knowing that she was unequivocally right here, even if it was nerve-wracking to speak to him like this. "We don't want to wait until these diseases reach an untreatable stage."

Madara's mouth, which had fallen open for a few brief seconds to marvel at Sakura's words, closed. He swallowed, his gaze traveling from her face down to what he could see of her body. Silence stretched between them. Sakura relaxed against the leather, feeling warm and content from the bourbon.

"What a sweet girl you are," he finally said. "How benevolent of you to pursue such research."

"I'm not a girl," she insisted. She was Dr. Sakura Haruno.

"You are my girl now," he said firmly. "You were my girl the moment you stepped into my house."

He stood and crossed back to her side of the desk. He sat down beside her; she shifted to accommodate him. The hard mass of his thigh pressed against her much smaller one.

"That's not true," she said.

He nodded and reached for a lock of her hair, twisting it between his fingers with curiosity. "It is true," he argued. "You came here looking for money, and you came to the right place. You are mine now, so I will give you whatever amount you need for your research."

Sakura scooted away from him, trying to put distance between them. His body intoxicated her far more than the bourbon did.

"That sounds really close to prostitution," she said, a little unsure of herself now.

He laughed, not a chuckle this time but the real rich and luxurious thing. How could a laugh sound like chocolate and velvet and fire?

"Sakura, baby, you came here to whore yourself out to Neji for a check," he said. "I think I'm offering you something far more satisfactory."

"It's not like that," she said. He was inching closer to her, but she couldn't feel enough contempt for him to move away. His warm breath fanned over her neck and an alluring, teasing smile played at his lips. "Neji and I—"

"You and Neji are nothing," he snapped, irritation whipping onto his face like it had been slapped there. "You and I…" he said, taking one of her hands in his. "_We_ could be something. I knew as soon as I saw you."

She shuddered as his thumb brushed across the back of her hand. He flipped it over, brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to her palm.

"Stop saying that," she said, though she didn't retract her hand. "What does that even mean?"

He smiled, leaning closer to her. His nose brushed along her cheek and he inhaled, huffing the scent of her like it was a fragrant bloom.

"Have you ever imagined yourself a wildly spinning planet, hurling through space, desperately seeking something to orbit?"

Sakura shook her head. The alcohol made his words sound warbled, but the sharp smell of his cologne grounded her, though it also beckoned her closer to the warmth of his broad chest.

"I think I'd like to orbit you," he said, sounding rather amused with himself. His finger found her cheek and traced a line down to her neck. Sakura's breath hitched in her throat and she leaned into his touch.

Madara lowered his face until his mouth was inches from hers. "I think I could get easily sucked in by your gravity."

She didn't know whether or not to be offended. Her brain diluted her thoughts while she tried to work out if there was an innuendo in there. Dizzied by his presence and the bourbon, she reached for his chest, hooking her fingers into his lapel.

"Looks like you're getting sucked into mine," he teased.

"Madara," she said, bracing her hand against his chest. "Do you want to fuck me?" she asked. The bourbon made her courageous. "Is that what I have to do to get the money?"

Deftly, he scooped up one of her thighs and pulled her onto his lap. Sakura was too drunk to do anything but acquiesce, and found herself perched atop his lap. Against her better judgment, she found his lap to be the most pleasurable and comforting place she had ever been.

Her dark-haired suitor seemed to agree. He hummed with pleasure and leaned forward to press a kiss in the hollow of her throat.

"The money is already yours, sweetheart," he murmured, his fingers curling into her hips. "I don't want to be your sugar daddy. Though I don't hate the idea of you calling me daddy."

A hot blush burned her cheeks. She gripped his broad shoulders for balance, marveling at the dense muscle beneath his blazer. Curious and blitzed, she tugged on his lapel until he obligingly slid himself free from the jacket. In just a fitted white shirt, he was an entirely different animal. He was so warm, so hard, his pink nipples distended and visible through the thin fabric.

"You'd fuck me even if I didn't give you a penny," Madara mused, a grin plastered on his face. Madara was a man who made many public appearances, but Sakura couldn't recall a single time she had ever seen him smile like that before. His pragmatic and domestic smiles had their own charm, but this expression was something else, something bright and explosive and just for Sakura.

"Yes," she agreed. She didn't consider herself loose in any sense of the word, but she knew that her body was undeniably craving something that he could easily give her. It wouldn't have been like this with Neji. Madara had been right all along.

"Exhibit A," he said, fingering her lapel now. He glanced up at her face in askance and then tugged her free from her jacket. "You belong to me because you want to," he explained. "Because you know I will take care of you."

She gave him a look of incredulous disbelief. She was a _doctor_. That she needed taking care of was more laughable than the fact that she had somehow ended up on Madara Uchiha's lap when she should have been down at the banquet with everyone else. Was Tsunade wondering where she was?

"You don't believe me," he said with a frown.

"I don't need taking care of," she insisted firmly.

He smirked, trailing his fingers softly down her spine over the fabric of her thin white blouse. "Everyone needs taking care of," he said as she shuddered under his touch. Fingers skittered around her waist and up to her breasts. He cupped her breasts, his eyes still locked onto hers. Sakura inhaled, arching into his touch.

"Even an intelligent and accomplished woman like you."

This was exactly the kind of thing to make her swoon, and she suspected Madara knew this well. If he was manipulating her, he was so damn good at it that Sakura didn't even care.

"How would you take care of me?" she demanded, wriggling atop his lap. He only seemed amused with her antics. He let go of her and folded his hands behind his head.

"I would start by making you cum harder than you ever have in your entire life," he explained casually, though Sakura's face felt like she'd been left out in the sun too long. "And then for good measure I'd make you cum about ten more times. I wouldn't stop until this wrinkle here disappears."

He pressed this tip of his finger between her brows. Indignant, Sakura shoved his hand away.

"Is that what it means to belong to you?" she hissed. "I just cum all the time?"

That enchanting grin lit up his face again as he nodded. Sakura was once again struck by the boyishness of his smile. "Doesn't that sound lovely?" he asked, cupping her cheek and brushing his thumb over her lips. "You smart, beautiful little creature. Why did it take so long for us to cross paths?"

His words confused her. "What do you mean?"

"I saw your pretty face in the paper months ago," he said, his gaze dreamy as he stroked her hair with one hand and her lips with the other thumb. "I found the subject of your study rather boring, but I see now that it was a tactic to garner interest in your genetic research. You cunning girl."

Heartbeats thudded against her ribcage. No one had spoken to her like this before, and she was beginning to grow drunk off his honeyed words.

"You're the kind of girl who can conquer the world, aren't you?" he asked. She felt warm all over. His hands smoothed over her face and came down to cup her neck. They felt warm and calloused and strong against her sensitive skin.

"I'm not a girl," she argued, pouting like a little girl in her inebriation.

"You are," he reassured her, the words a caress, as if she had been worried by her lack of girlhood. "You're my girl."

"Mr. Uchiha—"

He silenced her with a kiss, a groan of irritation rumbling low in his chest. "Don't call me that, baby girl," he growled against her lips. "Say my name."

"Madara," she said obediently, trembling now that his lips had found hers again. If she were sober she could never stand these aching ministrations. Even now she felt a glorious and pleading pressure between her legs. "I don't know what you want from me."

Their lips still brushed against each other, though they had both paused to catch their breath. Sakura felt entirely too warm in her suit pants and blouse, and she could see Madara's dress shirt sticking to his skin where his chest had been pressed against hers.

"I want nothing more than to make you cum right now, darling," he said, ever smooth, his voice lilting and dripping with charm. "Unfortunately I have a houseful of guests at the moment. As much as it would thrill me for them to hear your wanton shrieking, I doubt the families would be too pleased with it."

"You could gag me," she suggested, the thought burbling up from a dark recess of her mind that she hadn't even realized existed until now.

It must have been exactly what he wanted to hear, because the waning erection beneath her crotch began to harden again.

"Get up," he instructed, smacking her lightly on the ass.

Obediently, Sakura stood, her brows furrowed while she awaited further instruction. Had she done something wrong?

"Put your blazer on and go back to the party," he said. "Mingle and enjoy yourself. Once the guests start to leave I want you to come back to this room. Lock the door behind you. I'm the only one with a key." He stood up and helped her adjust the lapel of her blazer. "I want you to be naked when I return. Do you understand?"

Heat curled up in her stomach, gushing through her veins. She never imagined she'd be aroused by being spoken to this way, but she was eager to please him and filled with desire. "I understand," she murmured, desperately wishing to lean up on her toes and kiss him but lacking the confidence to do it.

"Good girl," he said, and her clit was aching between her legs. "Go." He swatted her ass again. She crossed her arms tightly over her tender breasts and made her way to the door.

"Don't speak to Neji again," he called to her just as she was shutting the door.

"I won't."

/

AN: Okay, so this was supposed to be a oneshot, but it kind of got away from me. It's going to be a four or five parter, I think but it's really jus an excuse to practice writing smut. The biggest criticism I get from publishers regarding romance novels is that my smut needs work.

So please give what constructive criticism you can, and also let me know why kinds of smutty scenes/fics you want to see bc I'm going to hunker down into steamy smut mode and just practice that for a while.


	2. Chapter 2

No one had missed her at the party, not even Tsunade. Sakura did a quick scan of the guests' faces and was unable to spot her mentoring doctor. She must have still been off with Jiraiya, which was fine with Sakura. She needed a minute to recuperate from being on Madara Uchiha's fine ass lap.

Their whole encounter left her feeling sexually charged, nervous, and warm.

Deciding that fresh air would do her some good, Sakura followed the crowd of guests until she had reached the magnificent Uchiha backyard. Its size was impressive enough on its own – Sakura couldn't even see the perimeter. The gardens, though, were what took her breath away.

Rows and rows of rose bushes wove intricate patterns along filigreed marble walkways. Stone chairs dotted the path, surrounded by colorful springtime blooms and flanked by peach trees. At the center of it all was a white gazebo, caged in by ivy-laced lattices and trellises of climbing tomatoes.

Enticed by the elegant solitude of it, Sakura ambled down the path, her heels clicking against the marble.

It wasn't until she approached the steps that she saw Sasuke sitting inside. He was alone on the gazebo's sole bench, his elbows perched on his spread knees. His head was lowered, but he glanced up through his lashes as he heard Sakura's approach.

"Sorry," she murmured, turning back toward the house. "I didn't realize you were in here." Meeting him like this would ordinarily have unnerved her to no end. After her encounter with Madara, she couldn't care less.

"Wait," he said, and ever obedient to her Uchiha masters, Sakura halted and hated herself for it. Sasuke had brushed her aside enough times that it stung her even to this day in spite of the fact that she hadn't spoken to him since they were teenagers. To hear him speak to her now froze her in place just as much as Madara's chilling gaze had.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, taking in the clean way his suit fit. He didn't fill his out as nicely as Madara did, nor were his red eyes anywhere near as fiendishly intense.

"I saw you talking to my uncle earlier," he said. "What did he want?"

_To make me cum harder than I ever have in my life_, Sakura thought to herself with amusement.

"Just to introduce himself."

Sasuke's eyes were sharp on her, and then his gaze drifted lower, sweeping her body in a critical, harsh way. Self-conscious, she squared her shoulders to him, hoping her clothes weren't completely disheveled from her time with Madara.

"He's dangerous, you know," Sasuke warned.

Sakura suspected as much, but didn't quite understand. "Dangerous how?"

Sasuke stood up and descended the gazebo steps. He came close to her, sizing her up with a judgmental gaze.

"He's the kind of man who always gets what he wants," Sasuke explained.

That sounded an awful lot like someone else she knew. She could recall Sasuke's reputation as _spoiled_ all throughout their school years. His name alone got him most of the things he wanted, and what that didn't get his good looks would catch for him.

"Is that a bad thing?" she asked, eyebrow cocked.

"Depends on what he wants."

Sakura frowned. Madara's true motive was still unclear to her, but now that he had riled her up, she expected him to make her cum. It would be cruel not to.

And also she still wanted that money.

"Well, I'll be careful then," she said, her voice measured, her nod polite and final. She turned to leave again, but felt his fingers curl around her elbow.

"Stay for a minute," he said. "I could use some company."

Shocked by the request, Sakura's lips parted. She caught Sasuke's gaze dip down to them, and she suddenly wondered if coming to this party had been a terrible idea.

"Mine?" she asked, incredulous.

"Anyone who isn't in my family," he replied dryly.

Curious, she slipped her arm around his and allowed him to lead her up the gazebo steps. Together they sat down on the stone bench, their legs close but not touching. It felt strange to be near him after all these years. She thought that being close to him would have made her nervous. There was an undeniable chasm between them, but right now it felt like they had been close friends for years.

They were silent in each other's company, and Sakura didn't find this confusing at all. Sasuke was a stoic man, and this was enough companionship for him. It was enough for Sakura as well, who could think of nothing but Madara's lips on hers. Where was he now?

From their seat in the gazebo, they were able to see the back porch and the throng of people sipping champagne and loitering in the gardens. Somewhere inside the house a string quartet began to play. Sakura watched the guests mingle with each other, wondering who might have approached her to dance if she hadn't secluded herself up here in the gazebo.

"You should have worn a dress tonight."

With a slow blink, Sakura glanced at Sasuke. "Pardon me?"

"The suit looks fine and professional or whatever, but you would have looked much better in a gown," he replied. "Something red and tight."

His words pulled something taut inside her that she was afraid might snap. She was irritated to realize that he was right. Any seducing she planned to do would have been much better met if she had donned something tight and sexy like Sasuke suggested.

But she was a doctor with a reputation to uphold. She wasn't here because she needed a husband, just a tidy sum of money.

She stood up, finished with Sasuke's company now. Whatever solace he'd found in her must have been accomplished already if he had deigned it appropriate to comment on her appearance tonight.

"Where are you going?" he asked, not unkindly.

"Back to the party."

She descended the gazebo steps and was unsurprised to sense Sasuke's presence behind her. He followed her back through the garden and into the house. His hand found the small of her back and he pushed her through the crowd until they'd reached the bar. There he lifted her a flute of champagne and took a glass of whiskey for himself.

"Who did you come here with, Sakura?" he asked her.

They both leaned against a vacant spot at the bar while Sakura surveyed the room. A few guests had already started leaving, but most were still present and pleasantly drunk. Sakura spotted Tsunade and Jiraiya on the other side of the room, swaying to the string quartet's performance.

"I was Tsunade's plus one," she answered, nodding in her mentor's direction. "As you can see, I was quickly replaced."

Sasuke's eyes flicked to hers, disgust clear on his face. She knew he didn't care for Jiraiya, though he was a close personal friend of Itachi's.

"Why come at all, then?" he pressed. "This isn't really your scene."

It shouldn't have offended her, but it did. This could be her scene, couldn't it? She could fit into all this opulence somehow. But she couldn't very well insist that to Sasuke and then explain to him that she had come here to seduce a large amount of money from someone.

And she certainly couldn't explain to him that that someone was potentially his very dangerous uncle.

Saving her from having to answer, Neji walked up to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. He glanced at Sakura and then Sasuke, confusion written all over his features.

"Hi," he said to them, sounding uncertain.

"Hi," Sasuke replied, and Sakura couldn't help but sneak a glance at his face. Had he seen her flirting with Neji earlier?

Remembering Madara's instruction, and not caring that it was incredibly rude, Sakura kicked herself away from the bar and briskly walked away from Neji. She didn't look back toward them, nor did she hear them call after her. She allowed herself to be swept away by the current of the crowd and soon found herself standing near a beautifully arranged table of desserts.

Sakura didn't consider herself to have much of a sweet tooth, but even she was enticed by the assorted confections with their bright frostings and sugary garnishes. The scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and nutmeg filled the air, and as Sakura neared the table, berries, citrus, and mango.

Easily seduced by the tray of fruits, she reached for a chocolate covered strawberry. She chose the plumpest one, lifting it gently by the stem. A gasp escaped her when she felt large, rough fingers cover hers and pull the strawberry from her grasp.

A solid presence was at her back, and she didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Please," he murmured in her ear and then turned her around to face him. "Let me."

He lifted the strawberry to her lips, and she opened her mouth to bite it. Her lips closed around his finger. Delighted by the shudder she watched roll down his spine, she boldly nipped at the tip of his finger.

He grinned at her and pulled his finger from her mouth and drew it into his own. Sakura swallowed her bite, hoping to soon replace that sweet taste of berry and chocolate with something else.

"You're such a good girl," he said after he'd sucked any trace of her or the strawberry from his finger.

A warm and pleasant hum escaped her. She blinked at him, a smile pulling her cheeks up into apples.

"You like when I call you a good girl, don't you?" he asked.

She nodded eagerly, achingly desperately for more of him, not caring that she was too dignified to be spoken to like that.

"See?" he teased. "I already know what you like. I know the things you don't even know you like yet."

Drawn up toward those startling blood-red eyes of his, she leaned up on her toes. "What things?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"There you are!"

Sakura dropped back down to her heels and Madara glanced over his shoulder at the man approaching them. She recognized him as Madara's brother, Izuna.

"Fugaku is waiting for you in the lounge," Izuna said to Madara, sparing no glance toward Sakura, though he was also seduced into snatching a pastry from the table behind her. "He seems pissed."

"Do you know why?" Madara asked him.

Izuna shrugged as he bit into his cream-filled pastry. Sakura could sense Madara's irritation with him, and she cleared her throat. It was only then that Izuna glanced at her, and he seemed surprised by the sight of her.

"It looks like most of your guests are leaving," she said to Madara, gesturing at the dwindling crowd in the foyer. "If you'll excuse me, I have I somewhere I need to be."

"Who was that?" Sakura heard Izuna ask as she began to walk back into the foyer. "She looks familiar."

"That was Dr. Sakura Haruno," Madara answered, but she couldn't hear what he said next as she parsed her way through what few people still loitered around and headed up the staircase.

No one questioned her as she walked up the grand staircase, even though she was the only guest to do so. She could feel people watch her as she ascended the steps, but she didn't turn to look at them.

Her throat felt dry, and she gripped the gilded railing with a vice grip, trying not to sway in her heels. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. Madara Uchiha was too much for her. She should find Neji and try to start over.

Once she reached the top of the stairs, she released a sigh and leaned her hip against the balcony. Madara's study was close, but now she wasn't so sure what she wanted.

"Sakura?"

She winced. Sasuke palmed her shoulder and turned her so he could get a proper look at her face. "You're not supposed to be up here," he said admonishingly. "And what was that back there with Neji? He said you've been acting funny tonight."

Irritated, she smacked his arm away. "Don't touch me, Sasuke," she said. How many times had she fantasized about his hands being on her? Why did it annoy her so much now?

He raised his palms defensively, a scowl pushing his features toward the center of his face. "Fine," he said. A beat of silence stretched between them. He sized her up with his gaze, and his comment about her suit rang in her ears. "You're a lot different than I remember," he finally said, though it seemed like he was musing aloud.

"Yeah, well, you're exactly the same," she muttered, giving him a dry look before she fled down the hall toward Madara's study.

"Where the hell are you going?" he called after her, but she gave him no mind.

/

Madara's study was exactly as they'd left it. Sakura locked the door behind her, satisfied with the loud click of the brass lock. Sasuke wouldn't follow her in here, and now she knew he couldn't. Only Madara would find her in here, so she was safe from other guests or vigilant security.

But she was well aware of the new danger she was in now – one that thrilled and terrified her.

For some extra courage, she made her way around Madara's desk and found the half empty bottle of bourbon there. Certain that he wouldn't mind, she took a generous swig of it.

With nothing to do but wait, she crossed her ankles on his desk and reclined back in his chair. She wondered what Sasuke's father was angry about. It was hard to imagine someone berating Madara for anything. As Sasuke had said, he was a man who always gets what he wants. What did their conversation sound like? She would have given anything to hear it.

Ordinarily, Sakura would have made it a top priority to eavesdrop. Though she wasn't quite as bad as her best friend Ino, Sakura certainly had a penchant for juicy gossip.

Today, though, Sakura was obedient if a little nervous. Her sexual experiences, while not completely prudish, were limited. A handful of short-term boyfriends, a casual fling here or there. Nothing spectacular, nothing truly passionate. She didn't know that Madara was capable of giving her exactly what she sought. She wasn't even herself sure of what that was.

But what she did know was that he had aroused her in a way she had never been before. The way his hands felt on her, the way his voice melted around her, the gentle but firm commands he gave – it whipped the tendrils of lust and passion that had fallen limp inside her up into a froth.

She _knew_ that he would be able to make her cum – a feat not many of her partners could manage. And maybe he was right. Maybe he could show her things she didn't even know she liked.

Growing warm at the thought of it, she slipped her blazer from her shoulders and draped it over the back of Madara's chair. Her blouse was sticking to her skin, so she began to unbutton in, fanning the fabric against her heated skin. She could imagine Madara's fingers working the buttons, his knuckles grazing against her belly, his spellbinding eyes locked onto hers.

Her bra came next, and she sighed with relief when its elastic loosed around her. She tossed it into the chair-couch on the other side of the desk and gave her breasts a squeeze, trying to remember exactly how Madara's hands had felt cupping her over her bra and what those calloused fingers might feel like against her bare skin.

Before she turned her attention to her pants, she gripped the bottle of bourbon by the neck and chugged and unladylike amount. She would need all the courage she could get.

The zipper of her pants became a puzzle to her; she fumbled and blinked until it slid down and she was able to slip her hips into freedom. She let the pants fall the floor beneath the chair and sank down into the plush cushion. Her skin stuck to supple leather, and the wriggled against it, feeling drunk and content and a little aroused.

Did Madara realize what feelings he had awakened in her? He must have; she could tell that he had done it on purpose. And how many other women had he seduced like this, she wondered. It must have been a good number. He knew what he was doing to her.

This should have been off-putting, but Sakura found herself comforted instead. At least he would know what he was doing.

Her fingers slipped beneath the band of her panties, a sensible pair of white cotton dotted with tiny strawberries. Indulgent where she could be. She was wet, almost alarmingly so. Her clit was already throbbing and she imagined Madara's mouth on it, teasing and sucking. Swirling her fingers around her engorged clit, she closed her eyes, sunk her teeth into her lower lip, and let out a slow moan.

A loud click snapped her out of her daze of pleasure. Her heart jumped into her throat as she watched the lock slide and the door swing open.

Madara stepped into his office and shut the door behind him. She didn't know what she was expecting of him, but it wasn't the angry scowl on his face.

Afraid that she had done something incredibly wrong, she slipped her hand out of her panties and stood up. Madara met her gaze and his expression melted. He took a step toward her then paused, his expression pained and angry again.

Sakura stood with wide eyes, uncertain, mostly naked. She wasn't sure what to do or what to say. She had followed his instructions.

"You aren't naked," he said, but unlike his expressions he sounded soft and tender.

"I was getting there," she explained, her voice trembling. She hated how nervous she was. She hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties and began to pull them down.

Before she could reveal herself, Madara crossed the room and took her wrists in his hands. He used his leverage with her arms to lift her onto the desk.

"What's this?" he asked, lifting her hand to his face. Her face burned red with mortification – her arousal coated her fingers entirely, glistening in the dim glow of the shaded lamps.

Shame made her turn her cheek to him, her eyes cast toward the floor. He chuckled; she nearly drowned in the sound of it. Then his mouth closed around one digit. Arousal shot through Sakura's body like an arrow, lighting up anything that had been pacified by the sight of his scowl. His tongue laved over her, and then he gave a gentle suck.

"I got started without you," she said with confidence she didn't feel.

His hands began to wandering, palming her arms and shoulders, and trailing across her chest and her waist, brushing her breasts with infuriating softness, touches so light Sakura wasn't sure she was being touched at all. Goosebumps erupted over her entire body, and Madara seemed fascinated by the reaction, his gaze delighted and curious as it devoured what he was doing to her.

It seemed impossible that these gentlest of touches turned her on far more than her own fingers on her clit had. Even the way his palm scraped over her shoulder sent pangs of arousal cresting in her gut.

"Oh, Sakura, darling," he murmured, moving between her knees, spreading them apart. "We are going to _be_ something."

She hated that she didn't know what he meant by that, but she lost the ability to care when he claimed her lips in a fiery kiss. His touches became rough; Sakura clung desperately to his neck, trying to keep up. Fire licked her skin and color was exploding behind her eyes. Alcohol had made her dizzy, but the air was already warm and Sakura felt hot and sticky and hanging on for dear life.

"You polished off quite a bit of this bourbon, didn't you?" he asked a little breathlessly, pulling away from her. She struggled to remain upright without his body to hold her, but he deftly scooped her against his side and carried her to the chair-couch. "This was a forty thousand dollar bottle of bourbon, you know."

The number shocked her, though she was sure her drunken features did not show it. She felt a stab of guilt, but ultimately it did not matter. That money meant nothing to him.

"Deduct it from what you owe me," she slurred.

He settled down beside her, tossing his arm over her side of the chair, beckoning her back to his chest. She obliged, sucked in by his gravity. The allure of his broad chest was too great, and the alcohol made her head feel heavy.

"I'll make sure you have the funding you need for your research, Dr. Haruno," he said, allowing her to settle into the crook of his arm. "It would be a shame for you to have wasted your time here tonight."

"I don't think I've wasted it at all," she murmured with a pleasant hum. It felt good to relax against him like this, though she wondered if he had turned down the heat because of how drunk she was. She didn't want to leave here tonight without fucking him.

"No?" he asked. "Even if I don't give you the money?"

She pouted, though even in her inebriation she realized he was teasing her. "Well, if you're not going to give me the money you could at least make me cum."

Madara's expressions always seemed like works of art. She could tell that his public appearances were carefully controlled, but tonight in this study with her, he was something wilder. His eyes narrowed to pinpoints. His lips curled into a smirk. She wanted badly to run her thumb over his proud brow, to feel his shadowed jaw against her palm. There was a feral gleam in his eye, and she had been the one to put it there.

"Oh, I plan to do both, Dr. Haruno," he whispered to her. She leaned back against his arm to get a better look at his face. Her body quivered in his hold, but he seemed reserved.

He sighed and tilted his head back against the chair. "Sakura, baby, I found myself in a really tough spot tonight because of you," he said.

"Because of me?"

His eyes pierced her when they glanced down to look at her. "Yes," he answered. "See, my family does not approve of your research."

Sakura furrowed her brow. "Why not?"

"I'm sure you've realized by now that it won't paint the Uchiha family in the most flattering light," he explained. "You know, incest and disease and all that."

"Oh."

Madara's fingers smoothed up and down her arm, petting her until she had sidled up against him again. It seemed unfair that she was naked and he was still fully clothed.

"Does this mean I won't get the money?" she asked,

"Of course not, baby," he said. "You're mine now, so that money is yours. It'll just have to be under the table. I'll set up a shell corporation. We'll find a plausible donor for you to name to the papers."

She frowned, shifting uncomfortably in his arms. "You'd betray your family like that?" she asked, glad he couldn't see her face.

"The bigger betrayal would be to let them think their reputation is more important than their health," he said. "I don't want to take the chance. If there is some kind of genetic disease in the family (and I suspect there is), I'd like for you to do the research. I don't want to see my family dying of something preventable."

"That's what Mr. Fugaku was angry about?"

His body stiffened beneath her. She curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt beneath his lapel.

"Should I be honest with you, Sakura?"

She nodded eagerly. "Yes, please, always be honest with me."

"Okay, then," he agreed, his hand still softly stroking her arm. "Fugaku was angry because he knew of your plan to seduce money from someone here to fund your research. We have eyes and ears everywhere, you know."

Sakura frowned. She felt vulnerable now in his arms and wasn't sure what to do.

"We didn't know you would choose Neji," he continued, oblivious. "Fugaku wanted you to choose Sasuke, that way he could use that as sway to control the final results of the study."

"I don't like Sasuke," she said instinctively.

"Well, you don't like Neji either," he quipped. "It could have gone either way. Except it didn't because I interfered."

"And that's why Fugaku's mad."

"Precisely."

Her frown deepened. "But if you give me the money, then wouldn't you have the same sway?" she asked. "Fugaku wouldn't expect you to betray the family."

Laughter rumbled in his chest. "Everyone saw me feed you a strawberry tonight," he explained. "I think they expect me to indulge you in whatever you want, and they are right. But I am also keen on that research, so it's indulgent and practical at the same time."

"So why do you have to hide the face that you're giving me money?"

"For one, I don't want your research to seem biased," he answered. "Two, my family won't like it and I don't need to piss them all off right now."

Sakura's body went rigid. Madara's strokes across her arm became even more tender in an effort to soften her again. "I didn't mean to cause you so much trouble," she said.

"Whatever trouble you cause will be well worth it, I think."

"You sound quite smitten with me, Mr. Uchiha," she said, nestling her cheek against his collar.

"Yes, you're a very good girl," he purred, his hand moving from her arm to her spine. His trailing fingertips sent flutters of desire down her back. "I think—"

"We could be something," she finished for him. "What do you mean by that?"

Without warning, he pushed her down to the seat of the chair and moved on top of her, pinning her arms at her sides. "You want to please me, don't you?" he asked, using his knees to hold her arms in place so he could gather her hair in his fist. He turned her face to the side, pressing her cheek down into the leather.

"Yes," she said instinctively, feeling heat begin to spread between her legs. Why did his roughness affect her like this?

"Good," he said, and then yanked her panties down. He hovered over her long enough to pull them completely from her legs and then grabbed onto her hips and flipped her over onto her stomach. "Now I'm going to show you why you belong to me and what it will mean for us to be something."

He pulled her up against him, her naked body sensitive to the rough fabric of his pants and blazer. Her nipples hardened into stiff peaks and a frustrated and pleasured sigh escaped her. One of his hands held waist, keeping her flush against him, practically in his lap. The other reached between her legs and brushed across her slick and throbbing clit.

"You got started without me," he lamented. "I don't like that, but I'm not going to punish you for that today. Instead I'm going to make you cum hard enough to register on the Richter scale. You will go home and have illicit dreams about me, and come back here tomorrow when you've finished up all your appointments. Then I will punish you."

Sakura's brain tripped over every word he said. Between the alcohol, the heat, and the _glorious _sensation of his fingers against the most sensitive part of her, Sakura could barely manage to hold her head up.

In fact, it felt so heavy that she tipped it back and let it fall against Madara's shoulder.

"Understood?" he murmured against her cheek.

"Yes," she said.

"Good girl."

She felt him move away from her, his body ripped away from her gravity. With his heat gone she felt a chilly wave sweep across her body. His hands found her hips again, and pulled her until she was up on all fours, her face pressed into the back of the chair.

A puff of air fanned across her clit. She gasped and felt her muscles contract. "So beautiful," he said, spreading her ass apart with his thumbs.

With less alcohol in her system she might have felt some shame in the position. She had never done such a thing before, and the thought ordinarily had disgusted her.

But when Madara's mouth pressed against her clit, all fucks fled from her mind. She cried out, lobbed by the hot, wet, swirling sensation of his tongue on her. She arched her back, throwing herself back into his face. Madara hummed with approval, sending a sharp current of desire to every nerve in her body.

"Madara," she moaned, choking on his name.

His hands roamed her body, sliding up and down her thighs, palming the curve of her ass. Her skin was ignited by his touch. Waves of pleasure lapped at her, whirled into a frenzy by Madara's skilled tongue. She never considered that he might have been right about her shrieking. She'd been silent with most of her partners thus far.

But what could only be defined as a shriek tore from her throat as Madara plunged his tongue inside her, sucking, laving, and teasing her with increasing speed.

When an amused chuckle rumbled through his mouth and directly into her pulsing nerves, Sakura began to wonder if she had perhaps lost a bit too much control. She could feel the coiling spring of her orgasm tightening and it wasn't happening fast enough.

She reached behind her and dug her fingers into his scalp, pushing his face harder into herself. She could feel his ragged gasps for breath against her but she didn't care. Even when he growled in protest she didn't loosen her grip. His fingers curled tightly around her thighs, leaving purple bruises on the pale skin there. She wanted to cry out in pain, but another lash of his tongue sent her over the edge.

Pleasure whipped hard around her body; she was grounded only by Madara's roughened hands on her skin. He held her in place as her hips bucked wildly, his head long released from her desperate grasp.

When her orgasm had subsided, she sank down into the cushion, her breath labored.

"We've got some work to do," he said and then spanked her hard.

She yelped and glared at him over her shoulder. "What was that for?" she demanded, still breathless and glowing. He paused to admire her for a moment, his eyes roving her in a delighted way. She could see her slickness on his face and the straining erection in his pants.

"You came too soon," he said. "Now I'm going to have to start over."

"Start over?" she asked, adjusting herself into a sitting position. Madara crouched down in front of her and spread her knees apart.

"Yes, start over," he repeated. "I know you can come harder than that. I'll just have to tie you down so you can't move."

Sakura gulped.

"You want to please me, don't you?" he asked.

She nodded, finding herself desperate to please him against all of her better judgment.

He grinned up at her predatorily. From his place between her legs, he gently strummed his finger along her clit. "I know you do," he murmured and then blew softly on her sex. Sakura shivered. "Do you want me to tie you down?"

In the back of her mind, a voice was shouting something at her. She wasn't exactly sure what it was shouting, but she found herself distracted by it. While she wanted very much to nod and let this man tie her up and make her cum, she knew she would be tacitly agreeing to something much more.

And she just couldn't do that in her inebriated state.

"No," she said, closing her knees around his head and thumping his forehead.

Madara, a man who usually exuded confidence and composure reeled back with a look of shock. He fell back onto the palms of his hands and let out a soft grunt.

"What kind of pervert are you?" she demanded. "Is this how you always talk to women?"

He blinked at her and then shook his head. She'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit to being hurt by the look of disappointment that flittered across his face. She did, for some _stupid_ reason, really want to please him.

"You can't control yourself, so I think tying you down would—"

"I refuse to be tied down, Mr. Uchiha," she seethed. "I am a respectable woman."

Calmly, she stood up and found her clothes with as much dignity as she could muster after having his tongue in her ass. He stood and watched her, his gaze sharp but not exactly unkind.

"You are a respectable woman," he agreed. "Forgive me if it came across that I don't think of you as such."

Sakura held her clothes against her naked body, unsure of what to say.

"Let me take you to get cleaned up," he offered. "You'll need someone to take you home."

She could find no reason to protest to this; she definitely needed cleaning before she could put her nice suit back on. So when Madara crossed the room and pulled a smoking jacket out of the wardrobe, she allowed him to draw it around her shoulders. She relinquished her clothes to him and began to walk toward the door as he guided her by the small of her back.

"I'll get this cleaned up and returned to you," he said, tossing the ball of clothes back to the chair.

That voice in her head was shouting again, but before she could properly hear it she was pushed out into the hall. She had forgotten how large the Uchiha Manor was and as he steered them down the hall she realized that she had no idea how to get back to the foyer.

"Mr. Uchiha—"

"Sakura, there you are," said a voice behind them. Sakura never thought that the sound of Sasuke's voice would make her sigh with relief. "What the hell?" he demanded when both she and Madara turned to face him. His gaze was scathing as it traced the state of Sakura's undress.

"Sasuke, hey, champ," Madara said, beaming at his nephew. "What are you up to these days? Still quarterback of the football team?"

"I'm thirty-one, you prick," Sasuke spat, and Sakura couldn't agree more. Madara was a prick.

"Time flies so quickly," Madara amused, his arm coming up to settle around Sakura's shoulders. He glanced down at her face, a smile tugging at his lips.

Put off by his strange behavior and her growing sobriety, Sakura pushed his arm away from her and flocked to Sasuke's side. He wasn't exactly safe, but he couldn't be worse than Madara.

"Where are your clothes?" Sasuke demanded.

"I was just taking her to get cleaned up," Madara explained, but Sakura had turned Sasuke away, gripping hi tightly by the elbow. His eyes were concerned when they came up to meet hers.

"I need to find Tsunade," she said.

Sasuke nodded, his hand coming to rest on a much more appropriate place on her back. He turned to scowl at Madara over his shoulder.

"She's out front," he said. "Let's go find you some clothes."

He began to steer her down the hall, and then Sakura could see the grand staircase ahead and sighed with relief. She hadn't been too far.

As they walked to the stairs, Sakura turned to look back at Madara. He was watching her, his mouth drawn into… a pout. He slid his hands into his pockets, his red gaze absolutely unnerving on her.

She could still feel it on her as she descended the stairs under Sasuke's arm.

/


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: Long time no see! I feel like I owe you guys an explanation because I am NOT the kind of person who just abandons her projects. For health reasons I needed to take a hiatus from writing and focus on getting better. For the last year I've been in recovery from an eating disorder, and even though I'm still struggling I'm in a much better place now. It's just one of those things that was consuming my entire brain and I was trying to write but things were just coming out so badly and after my experience with Friendly Infection (which I am still working on and will eventually post again), I just didn't want to put out anything that I knew would be subpar. I hope you guys aren't too disappointed with me. I should be back to posting one chapter a week from now on, and to any readers I've retained over the hiatus, thank you so much for all your support and understanding.

/

"Well, we screwed that one up," Tsunade said dryly. The ride back to Sakura's apartment was long, so she'd had plenty of time to share all of the horrifyingly embarrassing details of what she had done.

Ordinarily those might have been things to hide from Tsunade, but Tsunade was a Senju and therefore privy to the kinds of things only the founding families were privy to.

That included knowledge of whether or not Madara would actually give her the money and if it was worth it to go back to him tomorrow. Drunk, she was horny and desperate. Would she feel the same tomorrow once she'd sobered up completely? Would she have the nerve to go back to the Uchiha Manor even if she wanted to?

"I think Hashirama is the one who spilled the plan," Tsunade said. "I only told him because I thought he could help us out first. I didn't think he'd _warn_ Madara."

Sakura rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on. She would have a major hangover in the morning.

"So the Uchiha family thinks they can manipulate our research to preserve their reputation?" Tsunade mused, her foot heavy on the pedal of her ostentatious sports car. "They must think you and I are idiots. As if either of us could be cajoled into fudging scientific results like that!"

"Can you slow down, please?" Sakura asked, bracing her forehead against the cool glass of the window. Nausea was brewing in her stomach and Tsunade's reckless driving didn't help.

"Forget them, Sakura, it was a dumb idea anyway," Tsunade said, her knuckles white around the steering wheel.

Was it dumb, though? Sakura swallowed the lump in her throat and closed her eyes. What if Madara was serious? He had the money to give her. He wanted the best for his family. Maybe he _would_ give her the money. Maybe he wouldn't try to control their research.

"I think we ought to forget about the research for now," Tsunade continued. "You should take a vacation. You'll come back fresher. It's been a while since you've taken a break."

Sakura didn't want to take a break, but she couldn't argue with her mentor while the world was tilting beneath her. She felt the car lurch to a stop and opened her eyes. They were parked in her driveway.

"Get some sleep Sakura," Tsunade said, reaching across her chest to push the door open. "We can talk about this more once we've both sobered up a little. Today wasn't a total loss. At least now we know where we stand."

Groggily, Sakura rolled herself out of the car and slammed the door shut. She wasn't exactly sure that she_ did _know where they stood.

/

Monday morning Sakura took the train to work. Though her commute wasn't long, taking the train had given her a bit of time to look over her appointments for the day. She had spent all weekend sleeping and trying not to think of Madara's lips and hands and chest and other salacious body parts. His offer had become increasingly more enticing as she sobered, which was an unexpected result. Sakura, the workaholic spinster, was not easily seduced.

Unfortunately for Sakura, her day did not include any patients, which might have distracted her from her rampant thoughts. Instead, she had a full day of lab work waiting for her. While physically demanding, the work left her mind to wander.

And her mind had been wandering to selfish places.

As she made her way to the lab, she straightened her lab coat over her frilly sundress. Since no one would see her today she was free to dress in something more casual, and her comfort was important when it came to shuffling around the lab all day.

"Good morning, Shizune," she said as passed the hospital's information kiosk. "Is Tsunade here yet?"

Shizune shook her head but didn't look up from the file in her hand. "She's running late today, Dr. Haruno. We'll be lucky if she's here before noon."

Sakura rolled her eyes, but internally she was grateful for Tsunade's absence. She just couldn't bear to think about the other night at the Uchiha mansion, and Tsunade would surely want to chastise her now that they were both sober.

She made her way down the long corridor into the basement where the labs were. It was dark and quiet, and Sakura felt herself relaxing as she descended downward, away from the patients and nurses above, into a reprieving isolation.

The door beeped as she scanned her access card across the entrance into the genetics lab. She tucked her card back into the pocket and shoved the door open. She promptly shrieked in surprise when she found the usually vacant lab brimming with the presence of a familiar Uchiha body that was much too large for the small space.

"Dr. Haruno," said Madara, who was sitting atop the counter. "So we meet again."

With a huff, Sakura buttoned her lab coat. "How did you get in here?" she demanded.

Madara Uchiha inflicted a most disarming smile on her, crossing his arms over his chest with masculine and undeserved confidence. "I go where I want," he replied, "and I don't often encounter resistance."

"Well, you will today," she seethed. "Get out. I have work to do."

He regarded her with warm and disconcertingly focused eyes. It was much too soon for her to be thinking of him again. She was not yet sure how to respond to his offer, and with Tsunade absent she had no one to run to for help.

And now she was developing a headache.

"I came here to apologize to you, doctor," he said, shifting his ass on the counter. Sakura could see the bloodwork he was currently sitting on wrinkle beneath the fine press of his trousers. "You left looking quite upset with me, and I can assure that the last thing I want is for you to be upset."

"With you or in general?" she asked dryly.

"Oh, in general, my dear," he said with a grin, "but especially with me."

"If you don't leave this instant, I will be very upset with you."

Madara gracefully slipped from the counter. "Then allow me to opportunity to apologize to you another time."

"Apologize for what exactly, Mr. Uchiha?"

He neared her with a prowling ease and let his body loom over hers in a frightening but enticing kind of way, though he did not touch her. "For allowing my primal urges to get the best of me," he said lowly. "I can assure you that I am a gentleman in spite of what my behavior suggests. And you are far too respectable woman to tolerate such behavior."

Nothing about his current behavior screamed gentleman, yet Sakura found herself willing to accept such an apology if only he would close the small distance between them now.

How very respectable she was.

Sensing that she was on the verge of betraying her own instincts with a resounding rejection, Madara leaned even closer. "I think we can come to a suitable arrangement where your research is concerned," he said, placing one hand on the wall behind her, forcing her back a step. "Seeing as your contentedness is of the utmost importance to me, I will do everything in my power to see to it."

"My contentedness?" she breathed.

She watched his gaze flick down to her chest. She tried not to heave as she felt his glance leave goosebumps in its wake and raise her sparsely covered nipples into peaks. The corners of his mouth twitched with amusement.

"I could make you very content if you'd let me," he murmured. "I could give you everything you desire."

At this Sakura couldn't help but scoff. "Money can't buy you everything, Mr. Uchiha."

"Money isn't all I have to offer."

Warmth spread through her body, and she found it very tempting to lean up on her tiptoes and suck those words right out of his mouth. What else did the mighty Madara Uchiha have to offer?

"How can I be sure you aren't manipulating me like your family wants?" she asked. She couldn't get drunk off his sweet words.

"My family and I want different things." His thumb brushed across her cheek, sending a shiver down her spine.

Sakura wanted to fling his arm away, but she also kind of wanted to lean into it. "What do you want, Mr. Uchiha?"

He blinked at her as if surprised by the question. "What do I want?"

"Presumably not my research," she answered, feeling bolder in the face of his floundering. "Not if it will put you at odds with your family. And perhaps it's rude of me to say, but a paid whore could take your lascivious commands with more alacrity than I could."

"You sound like a thesaurus, doctor," he teased.

"Maybe you need more time to think on it, Mr. Uchiha," she said, sensing that he did not wish to linger on the subject. "I am curious, though, about what a man like you wants."

"I want to take you to dinner," he replied without missing a beat. "Pink Cantina, tonight."

Sakura grimaced. "Pink Cantina?" It was the fanciest restaurant in Konoha and would definitely require proper hair and makeup, not to mention that she didn't have a dress to wear on such short notice.

"Anywhere," he bartered. "Anything you want."

"McDonald's?"

Now it was Madara's turn to grimace. "I've never had it," he said. Sakura had only suggested it as a joke, but now she felt determined to go.

"Perfect," she said with a bright smile. "It's a date."

He batted his lashed with annoyance. "Are you sure you don't want to go to Pink Cantina?"

"You said I could have anything I want."

He narrowed his eyes. "Is that really what you want?"

"What I really want is to get back to work," she said, peering around his broad chest at the stack of bloodwork waiting on the counter. "But I'm not opposed to hearing your apology. In fact, I'm looking forward to it."

Madara blinked at her, his expression halfway between frustration and amusement.

"So you'll pick me up here at eight?"

There was something laughable about his faltering face and Sakura wondered if she was biting off more than she could chew with him. He was a very powerful man, after all, and she wasn't used to these dangerous kinds of games.

"It's a bit refreshing to not be the one calling the shots for once," he admitted with a boyish grin. "I'll be back at eight, Sakura."

She repressed another shiver at the sensuous way he murmured her name and before she could say anything else, she was alone in the lab. The sound of the door clicking shut echoed around her and she suddenly felt very cold.

/

Being a workaholic, Sakura always threw herself wholeheartedly into her tasks. While she enjoyed working with her patients, it was the lab work that truly excited her.

Except today. Today she was reduced to a quivering ball of anticipation. It wasn't even the prospect of funding for her research that affected her in such a way. It was the man behind the offer that had her so thrilled. What had started out as a ploy had become a full and tumultuous game.

She may have had qualms about sleeping with Neji in exchange for money, but if she could sleep with Madara? Would she even need to be paid for that? Part of her was distraught that she could be so easily seduced, but another part of her was excited that someone could rile her up in such a way. It had been a long time since she'd been turned on like this.

As long as he could work with her on her terms, Sakura was eager to meet with him tonight, to explore more of what he had to offer. She was cautiously optimistic, though, hoping that he was not manipulating or taking advantage of her. After all, what did _she _have to offer someone like him if not the research he was so adamant not to control?

By the time eight o'clock had rolled around, Sakura had worked herself into a nervous frenzy. She needed to maintain some semblance of control if she was to do this right. She couldn't allow Madara to trick her, if that was his true goal here.

Sakura removed her lab coat and fluffed her hair for volume. In the paned glass cabinet, she checked her modestly applied makeup for smudges.

When she heard the door click open, she whirled around. Madara stood there in a sharp black suit, his red eyes piercing right through her.

"You're a little overdressed for fast food," she accused.

He canted his head and smiled. "I dressed for the company, not the food."

Sakura felt heat bud in her cheeks and smoothed down the flared waist of her sundress.

"The car is waiting," he said, extending his hand to her. Demurely, a little unsure of herself, Sakura slipped her hand in his and allowed him to lead her back through the hospital halls. She kept her head ducked, careful to avoid notice. Luckily, Madara also seemed to favor discretion, and kept her close as they quickly made their way out to the street.

A nondescript black car waited just outside the entrance. Madara opened the back door for her and then walked around to the other side. "The McDonald's on 4th street," he said to the driver as he shut the door.

"Sir?"

"McDonald's," Madara repeated. "The golden arches."

Sakura let out an abrupt giggle, amused by this bizarre turn of events. Madara Uchiha was taking her to McDonald's.

"You have a charming laugh, doctor."

She let her gaze fall on his face, her pink lashes lowered. "You can call me Sakura outside the hospital," she said.

"I kind of like calling you doctor."

"Well, I suppose you can call me whatever you want, Mr. Uchiha."

He regarded her with cool eyes, his body close and turned toward her. She felt his full and undivided attention, which was rather intimidating when she was in such a small space with him.

"Shall I begin my apology now?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

"Yes, I'm eager to hear it," she said, her voice collected while her insides were absolutely melting.

He gave her a professional smile, the one she was used to seeing in the papers. "For starters, I must apology for moving too quickly with you," he explained. "While I have nothing but respect for you, I did not handle my lust in a very dignified manner. You were not in a position to safely refuse me."

"I did refuse you, though."

"Somewhere in your drunken brain you decided that being tied up was the correct place for you to draw the line," he continued. "Perhaps you were scared."

Sakura didn't like the accusation, but since he was right she remained silent.

"If you had been sober, I have the feeling you would have drawn the line sooner," he said. "You don't strike me as the type for fleeting and discreet pleasures."

"One-night stands, you mean."

"Precisely."

She glared at him, resenting the supposition. She could be sexually vicarious when she wanted to be. That night at the gala proved it.

"Why are you looking at me that way?" he demanded, his lips curling into the boyish grin she was more familiar with. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"You don't know anything about me," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. His eyes dipped down for the second time that day, and Sakura felt grateful that she had at least deigned the day worthy of a sundress instead of a t-shirt and jeans.

"A problem that will be rectified immediately," he assured her. The car pulled around 4th street and parked along the curb in front of the large golden arches. Sakura didn't wait for Madara to open the door before she hopped out onto the sidewalk. He glared at her as he walked around the back of the car, but then his gaze traveled the length of her body exploring her bared legs and the tight cinch of her waist.

Inside, Madara sat them in the back, eyeing the greasy tabletops and torn padded chairs with disdain. Like the gentleman that he was, Madara pulled out Sakura's chair for her. He sat down across from her gingerly like he didn't want to muss his nice suit on the dirty McDonald's chair.

"Where are the menus?" he asked.

Sakura let out a bark of a laugh. "You have to order at the counter," she explained. "Here, let me get it. What do you want?"

She rose from the table, but Madara leapt up to catch her before she reached the counter. "No, I'll get it," he insisted.

Sakura promptly ignored him as she perused the backlit menu overhead. It was a strange sensation indeed to have Madara's hand against her back her in the fluorescence of a McDonald's, the rich scent of frying oil thick in the air. The employees behind the counter stared openly at him, and Sakura couldn't blame them.

"I'll just have a large order of fries, please," Sakura told the cashier. "And a Coke."

She glanced at Madara only to find him staring at her rather than the menu. "I'll have the same," he said, keeping his eyes glued to her face. He pulled out his wallet and passed the cashier a folded bill. "Keep the change."

"Sir, this is a hundred-dollar bill."

Madara tore his eyes away from Sakura long enough to give the cashier a confused look.

"Your total is only $5.50."

Another employee slid a tray with two Cokes and two cartons of fries across the counter. "Keep it," Madara insisted, and lifted the tray. Sakura toddled behind him as they made their way back to the table, feeling like she'd entered another dimension.

"That's a generous tip, Mr. Uchiha," she said, taking the seat across from him. "You're breaking all the rules of McDonald's."

He took a fry from the tray and inspected it thoroughly before taking a hesitant bite. Sakura hid her wry smirk as he blinked with pleasant surprise. Even a man with a refined palate like his couldn't deny the deliciousness of a McDonald's fry.

"I wasn't aware there were rules."

Sakura nodded solemnly. "Of course there are," she said. "I don't have to dress up to come to McDonald's. I don't have to spend an exorbitant amount of money. There's no need to impress. Which means you can focus entirely on your apology."

He narrowed his eyes at her, reaching for another fry. "I thought we had covered that in the car."

"I suppose now we can get to the meat of things," she replied. "As a man with a lot of power and influence, the only reason I can see your interest in me is if it somehow pertains to my research."

Madara opened his mouth to interrupt, but Sakura kept going.

"Seeing what a controversial topic this research is turning out to be, I've decided to postpone it," she explained. "I lack the funding and the controversy will not make it easier to get. I've got all these Uchiha eyes on me, and it's rather intimidating. Dr. Senju suggested I take a vacation, and I think that's a great idea."

His eyes lit up at that last part, but his voice was measured when he spoke. "I can assure that my interest in you increases exponentially the more I speak with you, and your research has little to do with it."

"It seems to me like you're interested in an obedient sexual plaything."

Madara laughed and the sound carved out a hollow place in Sakura's chest and made its home there. "You're a good girl, Sakura," he said. "Or at least you want to be."

"What does that even mean, Madara?"

His warm smile struck a tender place in her heart. "It means you like obeying me. You like how I reward you when you do. You like when I call you a good girl."

Sakura's cheeks flushed with heat and she reached for her Coke and took a long sip. She could hardly disagree, but she was offended nonetheless.

"That's wishful thinking," she replied coldly. "I'm a—"

"Respectable woman, I know." His smile widened into a grin. "I can't expect you to obey me when you can't even trust me. But I'm willing to do what it takes to earn your trust."

"Why?" she demanded. "Why are you willing to put so much effort in for me?"

He pondered this a moment, or at least used it as an opportunity to stare openly at her. There was something clinical about his gaze, but it sent a tingling down Sakura's spine anyway. She couldn't deny to herself that she wanted _very badly_ for him to be willing to put in the effort. She was entranced by the way he spoke to her with a mixture of respect and lust, like he was holding back more of those primal urges for her sake. Like he actually did respect her enough to restrain himself.

"I firmly believe you'd be worth all the effort," he said. "In fact I'm more than a little surprised that a woman of your caliber has not been claimed already."

"Claimed?"

With comfortable ease, he began to eat more fries, though Sakura found her appetite suddenly gone.

"You're unmarried," he explained. "No boyfriend or suitors, so to speak."

Sakura crossed her arms defensively over her chest. "I'm a doctor," she hissed. "I've been focusing on my career."

"How fortunate for me," he teased.

"I'm a geneticist, Mr. Uchiha—"

"Call me Madara, please," he implored. "It's so lovely to hear you say my name."

"Madara," she amended, feeling that the blush would never leave her face. He certainly knew how to be charming, which made him all the more dangerous. "My career takes up a lot of time and energy. Dating hasn't been a priority for me."

He perched his elbows on the table and leaned closer. "Well that's no reason you can't make it a priority now," he argued. "You're taking a vacation, right?"

She nodded apprehensively. She hadn't put much thought into that yet, but a lengthy vacation was long overdue. A couple of weeks _without_ thinking about work? She couldn't imagine what she would do with herself.

"I'll take you anywhere you want to go," he said. "Let's spend that time getting to know each other. We'll go as fast or as slow as you want."

Sakura pursed her lips, enticed but wary of the offer. "You talk an awful lot about what _I _want, Madara," she said. "But what about you? Did you have time to think about what you want?"

"Well, yes, dear," he said. "I did. There are so many things I want, and I very often receive those things. I want a drink; there's one in my hand. I want a painting; it's on my wall the next day. I want a warm body; there's one in my bed."

Sakura grimaced, but then Madara reached across the table and took her hand in his. He laced their fingers together, a sincere and pleading look on his face. "I'm not a grounded man," he continued. "There is a frantic motion in my chest – I don't know how to describe it. Like my heart is homeless. Like it's searching for the hole it should occupy."

The sheer sobriety of his words staggered her. While he had waxed poetic with her before, this was something more serious, more dark than she had anticipated.

"Most people want to fill a vacancy in their chest," Sakura replied, giving his had a reassuring squeeze. "But yours it too full, you're saying?"

Madara shook his head. "Not too full," he said. "Too scattered. My heart is not at my center."

Sakura didn't know what to say to that. Her eyes drifted down to their interlocked fingers. Her skin was so pink compared to his, her knuckles smoother, her hand smaller. He was engulfing her, and she wondered if her heart was at her center. She wondered if she even understood what he was saying.

"It makes no sense, I know," he conceded, his eyes searching her face. "But what I truly want is for my heart to find my center, for it to just click into place."

"I suppose money can't buy you that, huh?"

He shook his head again.

"I wish I knew how to help you," she said, meaning it with her whole heart. It was the first vulnerability he had shown her, and it was so big. Even if it made no sense.

"I think you already have," he said.

Sakura took another final draining sip of her Coke before slamming it back down on the tray. "You just want to be happy, Madara," she said. "Don't we all?"

He peered at her with renewed scrutiny, a look of apprehension on his face. Did he feel vulnerable now that he'd shared that with her?

"Come on," she said, yanking on his arm. "Let's go for a walk."

/


	4. Chapter 4

Sakura had no idea where she was leading Madara when she pulled him out onto 4th street. The night was still young and the sky was still starless, especially with the city lights spilling into the roads. His hand was warm locked against hers and she felt like a teenager again, giddy with anticipation.

"You don't usually wander the streets like this at night, do you?" he asked her, pulling gently on her arm to slow her down.

She tossed a glance over her shoulder at him and noticed that his driver was following them in the black car.

"Not usually," she said. "I just thought you could use some fresh air."

They slowed to a more leisurely pace and Madara pressed himself close to her side. He had an air of contentedness about him – one that hadn't been there that night at the gala. There was irony in that, Sakura thought. He had wanted for her to be content, but maybe he was actually seeking his own satisfaction.

"Can I ask you something?" she said, releasing his hand so she could turn to face him. Her arms crossed over themselves in a weak attempt to warm herself up, and like the gentleman that he was, Madara removed his suit jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Of course."

"Why do you like to tie women up?"

A silence stretched between them, Madara's eerie red eyes guarded and sparkling with the streetlamp reflections. He reached for the lapel of the jacket and tugged her forward. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again.

"Is it a control thing?" she pressed. "Are you a pervert? What other things do you—"

"Sakura," he said curtly. "This is not a conversation for the street."

"Does your heart shift closer to your center when you've got a woman tied up?" she asked, feeling highly amused by the sudden fluster in his tone. "Does it make you happy?"

Abruptly, he pushed her roughly until her back was against the streetlamp. She winced, but he let go of her so that she could move away if she wanted to. Except she didn't want to.

"It's not _you_ that I want to control," he insisted. "It's your reactions. Your body. You're sensitive. Unexperienced, maybe."

Sakura scoffed.

"I know what I could do to you if you let me tie you up," he continued, ignoring her indignance. "Would it make me happy? I don't know. But it might make me forget that I'm _not _happy. Just for a moment."

He was hovering close to her, his face lowering to hers until their noses were scant inches apart. Sakura felt a fluttering in her ribcage. His nearness did torturous things to her heart, his handsomeness inescapable. She reached up, her hand like a moth to the bright flame of his eyes. Her fingers skittered along his temple, brushing away a soft lock of dark hair. He leaned into her touch, and even though he was the one holding her hostage, she felt what it might be like to have power over him.

"Who would have imagined a man like you to be so unhappy?" she mused.

"I'm happy right now," he murmured.

He closed the distance between them and pressed a kiss into her, a soft and intimate one. She could taste the salt on his lips, but before she could deepen the kiss he pulled away.

She breathed a little heavier as he stared down at her, gauging the reactions he loved so much. His eyes were even brighter now, demonically red and unnerving. She could see the starlight reflected in them and it felt like she had been whisked away into a dream world.

"I don't have to tie you up," he said. "I'll never mention it again if that's what you wish."

"No, no," she said hastily, rejuvenated by his sensual attention. She liked him like this: dark, brooding, enamored with her. "I'm not opposed to it. I mean I don't think that you'd hurt me."

"Never," he agreed. "I couldn't bear the thought of it."

"But perhaps we can start slower," she bartered. "Or maybe you'd let me tie you up first?"

His eyes crinkled in a glorious grin, and the fact that he was amused rather than dubious made hope swell in Sakura's chest.

"Have you ever tied up a man before, doctor?"

She shook her head solemnly. "There's a first time for everything."

"I'm happy to be your guinea pig."

This surprised her since he seemed to be the one who liked control. However, he had given her some semblance of choice tonight. If he was willing to be tied up, then surely she could be too. She chewed her lower lip pensively, apprehensive about actually tying a man up, about pleasuring him. What did she know about that?

"Let's go back to your place then," she said, fingering the collar of his shirt. His grin turned into a smirk, and he pulled her forward with the blazer's lapel and kissed her again.

"Yes, ma'am," he said. A moment later, the car was by the curb behind her and Madara opened the door to usher her inside.

/

They were silent in the car, but Madara's hand had remained linked with hers the whole time. With his free hand he played with her hair, or trailed fingertips along the silky skin of her thigh or reached beneath the warmth of his blazer to hold her waist. His focus was exhilarating, and Sakura could feel each touch, each breath, each furtive glance as it crested into something overwhelming and exciting in her gut.

Sakura was not a virgin, but she was far from experienced either. There had been a few flings, a couple of short-term relationships. Nothing that made her hairs raise like Madara did. Some men found her inexperience charming, but how would Madara feel? What did he expect from her tonight?

Her nerves were fraying when the Uchiha mansion came into view. She had forgotten just how splendid it was, perched so high up on its hill, surrounded by gilded gates and flowering trellises and lattices of ivy. The darkness of evening made the glow from the windows feel cozy, but there was something equally unsettling about it.

"Is anyone else home?" Sakura asked, hating the tremor that was now in her voice.

"Just the housekeeping staff."

The car pulled into one of the biggest garages Sakura had ever seen and Madara turned to her as it rolled to a stop. "Stay put," he said.

She acquiesced and watched him step out of the car and circle around to her door. He opened it and extended a hand to her. She could only roll her eyes as he helped her out of the car.

"I'm trying to be a gentleman," he explained.

"That's fine for now," she conceded. "But maybe you'll let me be the gentleman every now and again too."

He regarded her with an amused and inquisitive look. "We'll see."

The garage was dimly lit, but Sakura could see at least ten sports cars arranged in a tight circle. Madara flicked a light switch and illuminated them, making Sakura wince.

"You like cars?" he asked her. She thought of the sensible and modestly priced sedan she left at home in her own driveway and gave an indifferent shrug.

"I don't know much about them," she said.

He took her hand in his and walked her past them. "Maybe one day I'll let you take one of these out for a spin."

"How gracious of you."

He let out an amused chuckle as he led her into the house. "You're not easy to impress, darling," he pointed out. "In fact, I'm curious to know what _would_ impress you."

Sakura couldn't answer that immediately. Did anything truly impress her? She followed him through his gorgeous kitchen, into the foyer she remembered from the gala, and back up the stairs she had come to be familiar with. Instead of heading toward the right where his office was, he took her left down the opposite hall.

"Nothing impresses me," she said with a sigh. "That's probably why I'm still single."

He paused and turned to face her. "Sakura, when you are the most intelligent, the most attractive, and the most charming person in any room, of course it's damn near impossible to be impressed."

She couldn't answer that either, but she was sure the flaming heat in her cheeks told him enough.

"I'd still like to know, though," he said, approaching a set of mahogany double doors. He pushed one open and used a hand on the small of her back to guide her inside. "What do you look for in a man?"

They now stood inside a beautiful, plant filled parlor. Madara's taste was extravagant to say the least, and between the towering ferns and fiddle figs were velvet armchairs, chesterfield sofas, coffee tables of marble and cherry wood, and leather ottomans trimmed in red. He gestured toward a green velvet sofa, and Sakura obligingly sat down.

"Drink?" he asked, heading toward the wet bar in the corner.

"Got any more of that forty-thousand-dollar bourbon?"

He gave a rich, throaty laugh and reached into the cabinet underneath the bar. Sakura mulled over his question as he poured them both a drink. Their fingers brushed when he passed her the glass, and she was sure that skin on skin contact made her feel headier than any drink could.

"Charm, I think."

"Pardon?" he asked, taking a seat beside her.

"Charm is what I look for in a man."

His grin was disarming. "And you thought Neji was charming?" he teased.

She didn't like that turn of the conversation, and she had to admit that she was ashamed of herself for trying to use the Hyuuga aristocrat like that. Even if she thought they really could have been something.

"Neji isn't exactly charming," she conceded, "but he's a good guy. I could see myself with him in the right circumstances."

"By 'good' you mean 'rich,' right?"

Sakura glared at him. "There's a reason I chose Neji over Sasuke for my gold-digging," she hissed and took a large gulp of bourbon to soothe her nerves. "We have a history. Yes, I needed his money, but I know that he's a man of integrity. He's empathetic. He's self-aware."

To this Madara raised a skeptical brow. His arm came to rest on the couch behind her and she unwittingly leaned a little closer to him.

"Sasuke…" he mumbled. "You think Sasuke is a bad guy?"

"To be quite frank, I think that's just part of being an Uchiha."

A bewildered and slightly offended expression passed briefly across his face. His hand faltered where it had begun drawing light circles on her back. Sakura felt a stinging nettle of regret in her throat, but at least it had been her honest thought on the matter.

"And that's not what you want," he said, half a question. "You don't want a bad guy. You want someone empathetic and self-aware."

Sakura gave a half shrug and took another sip of her drink. Why did this conversation make her so nervous? Heat began to creep up her neck and she wanted desperately for their language to switch back to something more physical. He was so much easier to understand that way.

"Do you think I'm a bad guy?" he asked.

"Well, you are an Uchiha," she teased, but she meant it. Though she wasn't aware of the specifics, she knew the Uchiha business was corrupt. The fact that he had callously and recklessly offered to create a shell corporation just to fund her research showed that it was something he was more than capable of. Something he probably already had going for him in other ventures.

Madara stared down at her with unsettling voracity. His fingers came up to her face and caressed her cheek with impossible tenderness before they gripped her chin tightly and lifted her face forcefully to meet his gaze. "Some women like the bad boy type," he said, as if willing her to be one of those women.

"Not me," she said with as much confidence as she could muster while he held her face toward his. She was a liar, though. She _was _drawn to bad boys. How else could she explain her frivolous attraction to Sasuke?

"I think you do, though," he argued. "Why else would you be here?"

He leaned even closer, still holding her face in a vice grip. His thumb brushed softly across her lower lip before he craned his neck to kiss her. In spite of the rather rough way his fingers held her, his lips were gentle against hers, the lightest touch she'd ever felt.

"I _am_ a gold-digger, after all," she whispered, losing her restraint. She felt incredibly warm with his blazer still wrapped around her.

"You are not," he accused sharply, pulling away to glare at her. "Believe me, I've encountered more than my fair share of gold-diggers. They want a lavish lifestyle. They want to laze around my house all day, ordering around my staff around, buying fancy clothes on my dime."

Sakura blinked at him, not sure where his sudden vehemence had come from.

"_You_," he continued. "You are a respectable woman with a demanding career. You want an empathetic man, if you even want one at all which I'm not sure that you do. You want to conduct your research, and you need a funder. You are not a gold-digging whore."

She felt her eyes narrowing against her will. "Well, I'm guessing you're not very fond of gold-diggers then," she murmured, reeling even farther away from him so she could shrug out of his blazer. "Even though I'm sure those are the kind of woman who would obey you without question. And how could they not, when you offer money as incentive?"

His gaze had drifted from her face and was back on her chest again. She relished in the attention, even though she was feeling a little annoyed with him.

"Perhaps that's why my heart isn't at my center," he said tersely. "I keep trying to buy something that is priceless."

"And what exactly would that be?"

"Genuine affection."

Sakura wasn't entirely sure she believed that, but she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"I don't usually have to work for the attention of a woman," he confessed, his voice a little softer now. "But affection is something different, isn't it? Maybe I don't deserve that because I'm not an empathetic man."

"I never said that."

"What do I have to offer if not my wealth?" he asked her. "I think I could be charming. I believe I'm self-aware. But if I were not wealthy, would that be enough? Would you be sitting next to me if I lived in a studio apartment?"

"Madara…"

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. She felt the irritation rolling off of him in waves and she felt a pang of dread well up in her chest for him.

"I thought you just wanted me to be your plaything," she said, scooting a little closer to him. He opened his eyes, lifting his arm up to accommodate her better. "The way you offered me money, the way you touched me that night at the gala…"

His hand settled on her bared shoulder. "Would you do it?" he asked, pulling her body tightly against his side so that she couldn't see his face anymore. "Would you be my plaything?"

Her head felt very heavy suddenly, and his chest was so warm and inviting. She pressed her head just beneath the crook of his shoulder and allowed him to let his hand wander farther down her back.

"You know I postponed my research, right?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light. The ground this conversation stood on seemed so precarious now. "I don't actually need your money, but I'm still here."

The soft strokes he was applying to her back through the thin silk of her dress made goosebumps raise all over her body.

"I think that's why I find the thought of giving you money so appealing," he explained. "That and the fact that I know my family doesn't want me to give it to you."

She hummed her acknowledgement, her hand coming up to rest on his chest. She fiddled with the enamel buttons of his shirt, feeling a little adventurous now. There was a lot she didn't know about Madara, and now her curiosity was getting the better of her. Maybe she had misjudged him.

"You didn't answer my question," he said lowly, his voice resonating deeply in his chest.

Her fingers undid the first button just under his collar. Feeling bold, she hooked her thigh over him and hoisted herself into his lap.

"No," she said firmly as his hands settled on her hips. "I wouldn't be your plaything. Anyone could be your plaything. Who knows how many playthings you've had? I want to be something else."

Roughly, he bunched his hands in the fabric of her dress and yanked her further into his lap. She could already feel the hardness of his erection through his slacks and suddenly every nerve in her body felt enflamed.

"What do you want to be, Sakura?"

In one fell swoop, she downed the rest of the bourbon and slammed the empty glass down beside him. It was the only thing that could wash away that last bit of apprehension she felt.

"The woman who brings your heart closer to your center."

He laughed, but not in a teasing way. In fact, Sakura could swear that she heard relief in his rumbling chuckle. "That's a high bar for you to set for yourself."

"I've always been an overachiever." She rolled her hips against him and reveled in the way his breath caught in his throat. She tucked her hair behind her ear and leaned down to kiss him. It felt so good to be perched on top of him like this, to know that she could give him something money could never buy – genuine affection. Did he know that she was already feeling that for him?

His fingers released her hips in favor of threading through her hair. He held her face against his and kissed her back with fervor. While part of her wondered if his vulnerability was just a ploy to get closer to her, to take advantage, another part couldn't deny the electric pull between them. A slow throb was building between her legs and she felt like she couldn't be close enough to him.

"So have I," he muttered between increasingly frantic kisses. "I can be the charming and empathetic man you want."

Sakura wasn't so sure he could be, but she was certainly willing to let him try. He kissed her again, groaning when she rolled her hips over him. She wished she knew what she was doing so that she _could _tie him up now. If he would let her. What did she know about pleasuring a man?

"Stand up," he said, speaking the words into her mouth.

There were times to obey him and times to challenge him. Since this was what he knew, what _he _wanted, she obeyed. He followed suit, and he stood before her, one button of his shirt undone. His face and neck were flushed, but he seemed confident and in control. She reached for the next button of his shirt, but he stayed her hand.

"Take off your dress."

She peeled her gaze away from his chest to glance up at his face. His eyes were glittering and warm, and even though she had seen Sasuke's red eyes a million times, Madara's felt so eerie. They were darker, but in a smoky and rich kind of way. Like blood.

Focused on her they made her spine tingle. His pupils were dilated, and it felt like the intensity of his gaze drilled right through her chest.

"Off," he repeated when she didn't move.

Spurred out of her stupor, she lifted the hem of her dress up over her head and tried to feel no shame as she stood before him in nothing but her red panties.

"My favorite color," he said, fingering the lace waistband. His gaze flicked up to her eyes and the smirk on his face completely melted her. "Pink is a close second," he said.

She said nothing while he drank her in, trailing his fingers along her collarbone, down her chest, across her ribcage and stomach. He latched his fingers into her panties and yanked down on them so that they pooled at her feet.

"You are quite possibly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he said.

Again, Sakura wasn't sure she believed that, but the erection straining against his slacks didn't lie. He knelt down in front of her. His hands came to the back of her thighs and she brought hers to rest on his broad shoulders. She was growing nervous now, not as drunk as she had been at the gala. She glanced at his full glass of bourbon and reached for it as he kissed her stomach, her hips, and thighs.

"Nervous?" he asked as she tipped half of it down her throat.

Before she could answer, he pressed a kiss to her clit. The combination of the rush of alcohol and the pressure against the most sensitive part of her made her squeal, half with delight and half shock. He pressed one finger against the growing slickness and hummed with appreciation.

"Don't be nervous, darling," he said, rising back up to his feet. "There will be no tying you up tonight. Nothing you don't want. You've been a very good girl. I will do whatever you ask."

Sakura was drunk enough to giggle at that – a sound that seemed to amuse Madara. His eyes crinkled in a smile and he lifted the drink out of her hand to place back on the table. He turned back to face her, his eyes locked onto hers expectantly.

She'd never been in a position like this before. Sex had always been this rushed and dirty thing. Something not for her pleasure but for the appeasement of whoever she was seeing at the time. No one had _excited _her before. No one had been eager to please her like this.

"Your shirt," she said, tugging at the tail of it which had become untucked. "Take it off."

Wordlessly, he began to unbutton the cuffs. Impatient, Sakura clawed at the rest of the buttons at his collar.

"You didn't have to wear a suit for me," she said while he lifted it up over his head. She had more to say, but she'd forgotten those words by the time his shirt landed on the sofa behind him. She stared, well, ogled him. It was clear Madara took pride in his fitness. She could feel his self-satisfaction as she drank in the sight of him half naked.

"These, too," she said, reaching for the clasp of his pants. He obliged, quickly removing them and tossing them onto the sofa with his shirt. Sakura made no effort to hide her interest in the massive erection in his rather expensive looking briefs. "You know it's really unfair how attractive you are," she said pointedly.

Madara's laughter boomed around them. "I think that's the bourbon talking."

She peered up at his face through her lashes. He didn't strike her as the type for false modesty; she knew he was not all that humble. There was no blush on his cheeks, and his smirk betrayed him. God, she loved that smirk.

"I'm not that drunk," she said. And now it was her turn to kneel before him. He was tall – much taller than she was. So on her knees, she pushed him back toward the sofa. He collapsed against it, his eyes burning as she inched closer to him. "I've never done this before," she said, pulling his knees apart to situate herself between them. She tugged at the waistband of his briefs, but Madara made no move to help her.

"How old are you?"

Her eyes snapped to his, caught off guard by his accusatory tone.

"Thirty-one."

Madara's slow blink made her feel uneasy. "You've never given a blowjob before?" When she shook her head, he lifted his hips and slide his briefs off, adding them to the growing pile of clothes on the sofa. Sakura made a concerted effort to keep her eyes on his face, but when he reached for his hardened length and held it in his fist, she couldn't help but look down.

"Why not?"

"I just never wanted to before," she replied, trying not to feel embarrassed. There was no shame in her inexperience. Was there?

Madara leaned forward and grabbed her face with both hands. "What _have _you done, Sakura? What have you had done to you?" His attention was severe and alarming, but he his hands were warm and tender, holding her face with absolute reverence.

"Just regular sex, I guess," she said, averting her gaze. Her cheeks were warming up again, but she couldn't lie to him. "Just, like, missionary."

He canted his head with a curious tilt. "Oh?" His thumbs brushed lightly against her cheekbones. "I wish I had known that at the gala."

"What difference does it make?" she asked with an exasperated huff.

"I know why you came so quickly," he said, his expression somber now. "I wouldn't have handled you so roughly had I known."

Sakura pouted. "I liked being handled roughly, though."

"Of course you did," he said, beaming at her with masculine pride. "But it was still callous of me." He kissed her again, open mouthed and teasing. "I selfishly imposed my fantasies on you. But I'm dying to know what yours are. I'd like a proper attempt at making you cum."

She nearly swallowed his words in her attempt to keep their kisses going. He was talking too much, and every word only strengthened her resolve. She pressed both hands against his chest and pushed him into a reclining position against the back of the sofa.

"Right now it's having your dick in my mouth."

Liquor was giving her undue confidence, but she'd be damned if she wouldn't try her best. After all, she was only returning the favor.

"Sakura…"

Whatever words he was thinking of saying were lost the moment she reached for his throbbing erection. A little uncertainly, she held his member in her grasp and gave it a tentative squeeze. Madara loosed a shaky breath.

'Here goes nothing,' she thought and brought her mouth closer down to his lap. Testing the waters, she gave him a couple soft, slow strokes. Encouraged by the low rumbling in his chest, she took him into her mouth. She might not have ever done this before, but she had seen enough porn to know what she was _supposed _to do. Tentatively, she laved over him with her tongue, surprised by how smooth and soft he was, how she actually enjoyed the feeling of his hot hardness in her mouth.

It did make her feel powerful in a way. It made her curious to know what this felt like to him. His fingers weaved their way into her hair as she bobbed her head, slowly at first but faster when his fingers started to tighten and his hips began to quiver.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice gruff but still somehow controlled. Obediently she lifted her gaze to meet his. "Don't stop," he said, and he groaned when she began to suck lightly, her hands coming to aid her in pleasuring him.

Making eye contact like this felt far more intimate than anything she'd ever done before. Her skin felt on fire, electric, a non-stop stream of adrenaline encouraging her to keep going, to make him feel as good as she had felt that night at the gala. She quickened her pace, hardly coming up for breath.

She gulped when he unexpectedly thrust his hips up, holding the back of her head with trembling fingers. The low resonance of his groans sent more heat spiraling through her gut; she could feel the slickness between her legs growing, sliding down her thigh.

"Stop, stop," he muttered, grabbing the length of her hair and pulling her away from his engorged and now glisteningly wet member.

Self-consciously, Sakura wiped at her chin and reeled back onto her heels. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Not at all, darling."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back up into his lap. Naked and so turned on, Sakura straddled his lap, bracing her hands against his strong shoulders. His hands wandered her waist, cupped her breasts, and then brushed the hair away from her neck so he could plant sensuous, open-mouthed kisses there.

"I'm not ready for this to be over so soon," he explained.

Sakura took that to mean she had been doing a good job, but she still pouted. "But I was enjoying myself."

His face still buried in her neck, he caught on of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger and pinched. She gasped and grinded against his lap, even more electrified by the feeling of his erection pressed so intimately against the aching feeling between her legs.

"You will enjoy this, too," he assured her, pulling back so he could see her face. God, she loved looking into his eyes. Sometimes it felt like staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. Sometimes it was like looking directly at the sun. The way his piercing eyes held her hostage felt like an illusion, like she had dreamt up the man in a wild fantasy.

He reached down between her legs, fingering the swollen bud there. "So wet already," he murmured with amusement. Sakura's head rolled back as he began to stroke her, spreading her slickness around. He inserted a finger; Sakura moaned and lifted her hips to give him better access. With his thumb he continued to stroke her clit, moving his hand with experienced deftness.

"What turns you on, Sakura?" he asked, his voice breathy. Sakura couldn't look away from his face. "I want to know."

"You," she gritted through her teeth. "You do."

Madara hummed in approval and slipped another finger inside her. "What do you think about when you're touching yourself?" He curled and uncurled his fingers. Sakura squirmed in his lap, aching for more of him. She rode his hand while he pumped his fingers slowly.

That was something that required thought. When was the last time she had touched herself? She couldn't even remember. In lieu of an answer, Sakura pitched herself forward and pressed her chest against his. Her back arched. Her lips parted, brushing the heated skin on his neck.

"Tell me, Sakura."

She couldn't answer. Her lashes fluttered, her hips still rocking against his hand. Her body tingled with anticipation; it wouldn't take much more coaxing to send her over the edge. His fingers slowed to a stop, but she couldn't stop the rhythmic motion of her hips.

With simpering disapproval on his face, he withdrew his hand.

"Sakura."

"I don't know, Madara," she replied.

He frowned with disappointment and Sakura felt a pang of regret for not having the answer that he wanted.

"I mean I watch porn sometimes," she said, growing nervous again. "I don't really touch myself often."

"You don't even know what turns you on," he murmured, and for some reason this seemed to please him.

Sakura continued to rock against him, trying to grind into his hardened length to alleviate the tremendous pressure building up inside her. "Help me figure it out," she implored, her voice tight. "Please."

Madara gave a low, breathy groan and filled Sakura's bones and only stoked the fire nascent in her chest.

"Oh, don't worry, you delightful little creature," he said, gripping her thighs tightly and lifting them both up off of the sofa, her legs fastening automatically around his waist. "I intend to."


	5. Chapter 5

Contrary to everything she believed about the dangers of getting involved with Madara, Sakura felt unerringly safe in his strong arms. With their naked bodies flush, he carried her out into the hall, his hands wandering across her back. Her weight seemed of no trouble to him, even when she began to squirm in his hold.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded, though it was hardly threatening while she peppered kisses along his neck and wherever else she could reach. "You have a red room of pain?"

If he understood that reference, he made no indication of it.

"My bedroom, silly girl," he murmured. Between the silky tenor of his voice and chilly air in the hall, Sakura found herself shivering, pressing more intimately against him. "You're going to stay the night with me."

"I am?"

Feeling that this required no answer, Madara stayed silent as he carried her further into the dark corridor. When they reached the end, Sakura realized they'd come to an elevator.

"An elevator?" she shrieked. "In your house?"

"I assure you I could carry you up the stairs, but I thought the elevator would be sexier."

Sakura was beginning to feel giddy, and the understand was dawning on her that she knew very little of Madara's lavish lifestyle.

He pressed the button on the elevator and waited for the doors to slide open, then he pressed her back against the wall inside and began to kiss her again. He was slow, languorous, his hands exploring her body like every dip and curve was land to be claimed. Her stomach lurched when the elevator began to rise. She clung harder to him, digging her heels into his hip.

Madara hummed against her skin; she could feel his erection against her ass. "God, Sakura, you are so hot."

His infatuation with her was encouraging, and she wanted to return the compliment, but he began to fondle her breasts and her train of thought disappeared. There weren't enough words in the English language to describe the absolute _need _that was coiling in her stomach.

"Madara, please," she begged, though she didn't know what exactly she was asking of him. She felt him smile against her neck and goosebumps pulled up along her arms.

When the elevator doors opened, Sakura's brain took approximately two seconds to take in the glass-encased bedroom in front of her. The velvet plush of his massive bed called to her long before her gaze was drawn out toward the sparkling city below them. She had never seen a view of Konoha like this before, and the sparkle of the stars mixed with the smattering of city lights made the room feel encased in glitter, like they were standing in space itself.

Madara gave her no time to acclimate to it. In the bedroom, he tossed her with careless ease onto the foot of his impressive bed. She bounced once and gripped the velvet bedspread with white knuckles. Madara crawled over top of her, his body looming in the most delicious way.

"You like my bedroom?" he asked, his voice teasing and confident.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, though she was unable to look away from him in that moment. It was dark, like him, and red, also like him. It was definitely suited to his tastes, and for some reason that made her feel at home here.

"I like it better with you in it," he said, using a firm hand on her chest to push her fully against her back. "You're the first woman I've brought up here."

He began to kiss her again, sweet and tender, his eyes blazing with adoration. Sakura soaked up his affection, dazzled by everything he had to offer, charmed by his devotion to her pleasure.

But even in her pleasure-fogged brain she found something to be amiss.

"The first woman in your bedroom?" She couldn't believe that. But she had the tact to keep her tone teasing and not accusatory. "Are you a virgin?" she goaded.

"Of course not," he said as though that had wounded his masculine pride. "But this place is private. For me. I can't just bring anyone into it."

Enamored with him in spite of it, she reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair and planted more kisses against his mouth. He happily obliged, forcing his knee between her legs to spread them.

"Why me, Madara?" she asked between languid kisses.

He pressed his knee against her, his hands smoothing over her hair, down to her shoulders. He kissed her temple, and then her cheek, and pressed another open-mouth kiss to her lips. "Do you believe in love at first sight?" he asked her, whispered the words into her neck as he journeyed down to the junction of her shoulder.

"Not really," she confessed. Love was familiarity. Love took time, effort, commitment.

"Well, I do." He gripped her thighs with warm, calloused hands and pulled her against his hips. His erection was caught between their bodies, throbbing and hot. "You're not just any woman. You know that."

"I don't," she insisted, but it was getting harder to focus on his words now that his fingers were rubbing sensual circles on her clit. She mewled beneath him, writhing against the tortuous sensation.

"Oh, you know, Sakura," he argued, using the tip of his erection to tease her now. "I know you felt what I felt that night at the gala. That was the most alive I've ever felt. Did you know that?"

"Ridiculous," she hissed. Slowly, he pushed himself inside her. Sakura groaned, reaching to grip velvet and writhing in newfound pleasure. Madara gauged her with piercing, concerned eyes, his movements lithe and soft.

"Look at me, Sakura," he said, but even his voice sounded tight now. Obediently, she opened her eyes. "Tell me you don't feel this connection between us. Tell me another man has ever made you feel this way."

He sheathed himself entirely inside her and began to pump wretchedly slow. Her hips, independently of her mind, began to thrust to meet his rhythm. She couldn't answer; he was always leaving her speechless in so many different ways. Her claws came out, pawing at his chest until he obeyed her silent command and leaned down to press his body close to hers.

"Madara," she groaned, her breaths shallow while she clung to him with wanton desperation. He filled her so entirely, stoking an ember that was sparking dangerously in her gut. His skin was hot against hers and his eyes were so adoringly self-satisfied as the roved over her, pleased with her visceral reactions.

"Yes, baby girl?"

"Harder," she hissed. "Please."

He complied, picking up his pace. Sakura watched his lean body with avid attention, mesmerized by the ripples of his chest, the slick sheen that was developing over his skin. Her gut tightened; a spiraling sensation began to build inside her, sending sparks through her chest. Her breath quickened, and she could hear the strain in Madara's as well.

Not long after his hand came back to her clit, teasing, rubbing, did the well of pleasure inside her tip over. With his free hand, Madara gripped her chin and pulled her into a messy kiss, pounding harder against her.

Sakura screamed as she climaxed, bowled over by the heightened sensation. Tremors wracked her body; her skin felt like fire and ice. Madara still clung to her, recklessly thrusting through the fluttering walls of her orgasm.

As she floated down from the incredible high, Madara pulled himself free of her, still engorged and glistening.

"Very good, baby," he murmured to her, gripping his erection with another self-satisfied smirk. "Did you like that?"

Sakura nodded fervently, though her eyelids were feeling heavy, her limbs numbed. She'd never felt so relaxed and yet so on edge. The feeling only climbed higher when Madara moved forward to straddle her chest.

"Look up at me, baby."

He hummed with pleasure, smiling down at her with affection she knew he couldn't be faking. He just couldn't.

"You want my dick in your mouth?" he asked, holding up to her face, stroking himself with slow languid strokes. Sakura nodded eagerly, ready to please him, to return his glorious favors.

"Good girl."

With no further coaxing needed, Sakura parted her lips and allowed him to slide his erection into her mouth, already feeling turned on again. His powerful legs were tight against her chest, pressing her breasts together, nearly suffocating her. She didn't mind at all, welcoming the feeling of being completely enveloped by his magnificent body like this. No other man could have taken this somewhat humiliating position over her, but she felt good here, not in control, but happy to give it all up for him.

He palmed the back of her head and began to thrust ever so gently into her mouth. It was a startling feeling, being beholden to his whims and pleasures. She had so little control like this, but he was so tender, so soft with his wild lust. He groaned, and the sound sent more tingling, more throbbing between her legs. His eyes rolled back in pleasure, and even Sakura moaned and reached between her legs to alleviate the extra pressure that was bubbling inside her again.

Sakura gulped when his pace quickened. This position seemed to really turn him on – his fingers tightened in his scalp, his thumbs brushing softly against her temples when the softness of his thrusts had disappeared.

"My pretty girl," he murmured. Sakura hummed, delighted by his loss of control, by his frantically moving hips. His hard length filled her mouth entirely, hitting the back of her throat. She opened wider to take as much of him in as possible, and her eagerness tipped him over the edge. He let out a stuttering groan as his final thrusts became more frenzied. Sakura could barely breath anymore, but there was no way she would stop until he had finished.

Abruptly, he pulled himself out of his mouth, and with a few rough strokes, came on her chest, his body quivering and pulsing. It was a sight to see while pressed beneath him, between his big thighs. What should have been a rather demeaning moment felt freeing in a way, like by letting him do this to her she had released a fear, a tension she didn't even know she had inside her.

Before she had time to process the sticky, hot cum pooling between her breasts, Madara shimmied down and pressed a fervent kiss to her lips.

"I'll be right back," he said against her lips, and then vaulted himself away from the bed. Dazed, Sakura watched him disappear into another room and return a moment later carrying a damp towel.

She sat up and leaned back against his pillow, peering at him through her lashes while he wiped her chest clean.

"Such a gentleman," she teased.

He caught her gaze and flashed her a boyish grin.

"How can you say that after I've just defiled you?" He tossed the dirtied towel to the floor and then slipped into the bed beside her, yanking the covers up over the both of them.

"I'm not defiled," she said with a precocious pout.

"No, of course not." He laid his cheek on his silk pillow, facing her. She turned to face him, their noses brushing just slightly. He tenderly swept a lock of hair away from her face and gave her a smile that curled a wisp of something urgent and wrenching in her heart.

"You have the prettiest eyes," he mused. Her heart could have burst open.

"No, you." She reached up to smooth her hand over the scrape of his jaw, but he caught it and pressed a kiss to her palm.

"You should let me take you on a real date," he said. "Somewhere nice.

"You didn't like McDonald's?"

He gave her another of those crooked half grins. "I liked spending time with you," he replied. "I liked letting you take the lead. But now it's my turn. I'll take you somewhere cozy. Somewhere we can chat all night."

"You don't need to take me on fancy dates," she said. "I'm happy to stay right here in your bed."

Something strange flittered across his face, some chink in the armor she knew he was wearing but hadn't become acutely aware of until that moment.

"I wish we never had to leave it," he said.

She grinned at that, which in turn made him grin, too. He shifted a little closer to her, pushing his leg between hers.

"I want to know about you, Sakura," he said. "Tell me everything there is to know."

She blinked. "Where should I begin?"

He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers and then pressed a light kiss to it. "Tell me why you decided to become a doctor. Why genetics?"

At this she frowned because she knew where this conversation could lead. Madara, catching her shift in expression, began to stroke her arm with tender brushes of his fingers. "No ulterior motive," he assured her. "I'm just curious."

"Well, my parents always pushed me toward greatness," she explained. "They wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer. I definitely have them to thank for my ambition. But I chose to be a doctor because I like helping people. I wanted to do good, to leave a positive impact on the world."

"How benevolent of you," he said teasingly.

She gave him a sheepish grin. "I'm not all that altruistic," she continued. "I chose to be a geneticist because I know it's lucrative, especially here. Even outside of the Uchihas and Hyuugas, there's been a lot of genetic abnormalities because this is such a small town."

"Ah, so you _are _motivated by money," he accused.

"I want to be able to take care of my family," she said, trying not to sound defensive. "My parents are close to retirement. I want to be able to provide for them. I'd love to buy them a new house one day."

His fingers moved to her lower back and tugged her a little bit closer. She shivered when he began to rub small circles there.

"I understand that," he said. "Perhaps a little too well. It's nice being able to take care of the people who are important to you."

"Who's important to you, Madara?" she asked, shifting her head so she could better gauge those piercing red eyes. "Who do you want to take care of?"

Another look of wry amusement gleamed in his eyes, like he was barely refraining from saying, 'You, my darling.' Sakura felt a deep contentedness to be so close to him then, but underneath was the more logical instinct that this, that _he _was too good to be true.

"My brother," he answered more reasonably. "I love all of my family, of course, and I will do anything to protect them. But Izuna is my baby brother. He has a very special place in my heart."

"How sweet," she hummed in approval. Izuna was not in the public eye as much as Madara was. Sakura had only seen a picture of him in the paper once. "What's he like?"

"Smart, competitive," Madara said. Sakura loved how the wrinkles around his eyes seemed to deepen when he spoke of his brother. "Devoted to the family, eager and ambitious."

She traced the curve of his collarbone with a tentative finger. "Sounds a lot like you," she mused.

He gave a half shrug. "Izuna is a more empathetic man than I am," he conceded. "Perhaps I should set the two of you up."

Sakura wrinkled her nose, though she knew he was only joking. "Not a very jealous man, are you?" she asked.

"I'm the most jealous man in all of Konoha," he countered. "How do you think I ended up in all this luxury?"

She took a moment to glance around his room, but her gaze wandered back to the darkened city below and then back to Madara's glowing red eyes.

"But people can't be owned," he said with defeat, as if he wished they could be. "If I thought it would make him happy, or you for that matter, then I couldn't begrudge you. Although I'd be absolutely heartbroken."

This made her narrow his eyes at him. It was hard to stay level-headed when he said such beautiful things to her, but in her heart she knew better. Madara was a dangerous, and well-connected man. He didn't gain the empire he sat on by playing nice. He was a master manipulator, and until she knew she could trust him, she needed to keep her guard up.

"Why don't you bring women up to your bedroom, Madara?" she asked. "This would be the perfect place to seduce them."

"Believe it or not, baby, but you're the only one I've had to seduce," he said with a teasing smile. "It's usually the other way around."

She scoffed at him. "You're full of shit."

"Or maybe you are the jealous one," he laughed.

"You expect me to believe that love at first sight bullshit?" she demanded.

He rolled on top of her, pinning her arms high above her head. His knees pressed against her, tight but not overwhelmingly so.

"I meant that, Sakura," he said, his voice low and insidious. "You will be my wife one day, just wait and see."

Sakura wanted to roll her eyes at that, but she also felt a fluttering in her chest. She'd never been close to marriage before, and this sordid two-day tryst with Madara didn't make her feel any closer.

"Whether I like it or not?"

"Oh, you'll like it."

His body on top of hers was reawakening those feelings of lust in her. However bitter their conversation had become was overshadowed by the sweet sensation of his warm body pressing down on hers.

"Confident words from someone who's never seduced a woman before," she teased, though she was deadly serious and a little annoyed by the instinct that he was putting moves on her and not all that genuine in his advances.

"Don't give me that look, baby," he murmured softly. He pressed a tender kiss to the junction of her jaw, and then another to her neck. "It may be a slow process, but I will gain your trust."

"Why would it be a slow process?"

Madara released her hands, and she found herself reaching for his broad shoulders.

"Because you are smart," he replied. "You have every reason to doubt my sincerity. Because you know that I always get what I want, and you are just feisty enough to resist me."

"I am _not_ feisty," she said with a glare.

"No," he said with a sardonic drawl. "You're a very good girl."

Her eyes narrowed further, which only seemed to amuse him even more. She wanted so badly to believe that he was serious, but she just couldn't.

"I ought to be getting home," she said, ready to put some distance between her and the bedroom eyes he was giving her. She couldn't think clearly when every glance he gave her lit up her body. "I have to work tomorrow."

"You'll sleep right here," he insisted. "I personally will take you to work in the morning."

"I don't have anything to wear," she argued. "Or any toiletries."

"I can get you anything you need."

Her eyebrows knit together in concern. Madara reached up and brushed the pad of his thumb against the worried line between her brows. "I won't force you to stay here if you really don't want to, darling."

She melted a little, unsure of what to do. No one had ever coaxed her like this before. He rolled over onto the opposite side of her and pulled her back against his chest. He then tucked her head under her chin and pointed out to the shimmering sky where the circle of the moon hung high in the air.

"Look how beautiful it is," he implored, his voice rumbling deeply in his chest. "It would be nice to have someone to share it with."

"The moon?" she asked incredulously. "That's not yours to share."

"Who else could get this close to it?" he demanded. "Right now, it's ours. Yours if you want it."

Sakura couldn't stop herself from grinning at his sheer ridiculousness. He couldn't see it anyway, so there was no harm. "You're a real piece of work, Madara, you know that?"

He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, pressing the whole length of his body against hers. "Stay here with me," he begged, "and I'll give you the moon."

"I want to leave," she said softly to him, "because I think you are spoiled and used to always having things your way."

Madara's hand settled on her hip and gripped her tightly, but he said nothing.

"But I think it'd be quite nice to have the moon all to myself," she continued. "So I'll stay."

"Good girl," he purred.

She melted against him, feeling safe and warm in the secure wrap of his arms. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she was wrapped in danger itself.

/

"Wake up, darling."

Sakura blinked and winced when the harsh sunshine stabbed her eyes. She rolled over, rubbing blearily at her face and pushing a wad of mussed hair away from her forehead.

"You'll be late for work."

She opened her eyes again and saw Madara's silhouette against the window. He held a tray in his hands, which he set down on the bed beside her. "I had Hidan make you breakfast," he said. "He also picked up a couple of dresses for you to choose from. They're hanging in the bathroom. Help yourself to any amenities you need."

The smell of crepes made her stomach growl and she glanced down at the impressive spread of food on the tray, then back up to Madara's face.

"Good morning," she said, her voice raspy.

"Good morning, darling."

She gave him a sleepy smile. The pet name was beginning to grow on her. He was dressed in a sharp suit, his hair neatly coifed. She could smell his earthy cologne and the scent of soap on him when he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.

"Unfortunately I'll be unable to take you to work this morning," he told her. "Some business came up that I need to see to immediately. Hidan is waiting downstairs to take you to the hospital whenever you're ready."

"Hidan?"

"My driver," he explained. "My assistant." He fiddled with the red tie at his collar, which matched his eyes so perfectly Sakura believed it must have been custom dyed just for him. "I have to get going but take all the time you need."

Carefully so as not to disturb the tray of food, Sakura brought herself up to her knees and reached for his tie. She used it to pull him down into a warm kiss. "You're too much, Madara," she said, smiling against his lips.

He pulled back to look at her, his smile disarming and genuine. "No such thing," he said. "I'll call you tonight, okay? To arrange a proper date."

"Okay."

Sakura watched as he entered the elevator and gave her one last boyish grin as the doors slid shut. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and saw that she had plenty of time to eat and get ready for work, so, relishing in the luxury she wasn't usually afforded, she leaned back against the silky pillows and reached for the grapefruit on the tray.

After her leisurely breakfast, Sakura took it upon herself to explore his magnificent and opulent bathroom. She'd never seen a bathtub so large, and though she was very tempting, she opted to use the glass enclosed shower instead. She tied her hair up, unwilling to wash her hair with Madara's _boy_ shampoo, though she admitted quietly to herself that it probably cost a hell of a lot more than her own shampoo. She did use his soap, however, delighted that she would spend the rest of the day smelling like he did.

When she emerged from the shower, she noticed the two dresses hanging behind the door she felt a burble of amusement in her chest. They were both red, his favorite color. One was a modest sheath dress with a high neckline and a knee length hem. The other a less modest, but still work-appropriate A-line with a deeper neckline.

She chose the A-line, of course, and quickly dressed herself. She could only imagine the way Madara might look at her if he could see her now, with a cocky grin and a dark gleam in his eye.

When she returned to the bedroom, she found a pair of black pumps waiting for her at the foot of the now made bed, as well as the dress and sandals she had worn the night before.

Part of her (and deeply buried and shameful part of her) wanted to snoop through Madara's things. There was a lot to learn about a man through his belongings. But she didn't feel right about invading his privacy like that, so she pulled the black pumps onto her feet and took the elevator back down to the foyer.

Hidan was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, rigid and tall.

"Dr. Haruno," he greeted with polite grace. "I've been instructed to bring you to the hospital. Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes," she replied, descending the stairs. Sakura knew deep down that she would be back here at the Uchiha mansion again very soon, but she still gazed wistfully at the passing opulence as Hidan led her back to the garage. It still felt too much like a dream.

A dream she never wanted to wake up from.

/

Sakura arrived at the hospital with an extra pep in her step. She would be relegated to lab work again today, which meant she could stew in her conflicting thoughts about Madara in relative peace. She felt like a million bucks in the outfit he had given her, and there was nothing like a good outfit to bolster confidence.

Except when she entered the hospital lobby, she saw Tsunade standing at the reception desk with her father, Hashirama Senju. Sakura had only met the man one time, only briefly and well before he had become mayor of Konoha. Were it not for the dark and serious look on his face, and the petulant one on Tsunade's, Sakura might have mused that he was more handsome than she remembered.

"Dr. Haruno," Tsunade said curtly. "A word, please."

/


	6. Chapter 6

Sakura dutifully followed Tsunade and Mayor Senju toward the hospital offices, a nervous wrenching in her gut. When they all sat down together in Tsunade's office, Hashirama had a professional smile on his face, which put Sakura a little more at ease in spite of the somber mood that surrounded them.

"Dr. Haruno," Hashirama said. "It's a pleasure to see you again. I was glad to see your successes in the paper last week. It fills me with pride to see Konoha's brightest achieving greatness."

"Thank you," Sakura said with a blush, but also a smidge of suspicion. "The eye color study was an absolute pleasure to conduct, and obviously well-received." She glanced at Tsunade, who had her arms crossed tersely over her ample chest.

"Indeed," Hashirama replied. "I was at the gala the other night at the Uchiha mansion and I heard talk of another genetic study you intended to conduct. Is it true you wanted to look into potential genetic diseases that are unique to Konoha?"

Apprehensively, she nodded. "I had intended to, sir," she explained, "But I have no concrete plans for that as of yet. In fact, I was thinking I would take a vacation soon to ruminate on possible leads."

"And to relax, of course." He gave her an eye-crinkling smile.

"Of course," she echoed. Tsunade cleared her throat.

"Well, I think that's a wonderful idea," he continued. "You certainly deserve a break. Tsunade tells me you work very hard here at the hospital."

It was gnawing at Sakura that Tsunade had remained silent this whole time. They briefly traded glances with one another, but the firm set of Tsunade's jaw only gave away her irritation and nothing else.

"As you know, the Senjus are a founding family," Hashirama said, oblivious to the unspoken communication between them. "After you return from your vacation, I was hoping you could start your research with the Senju family. I see your potential findings very valuable, and if there is a public health risk hidden in our bloodlines, I'd very much like to know about it."

Ah, there it was. Sakura locked eyes with Tsunade, unsure of how to proceed. She knew her mentor well enough to know that this did not sit well with her. The Uchihas and Hyuugas were fair game, but the Senjus? She could see why Tsunade would find that upsetting.

"What do you think, Tsunade?" Sakura asked, aware that she was treading on precarious ground.

"I think our efforts are better focused where we know conditions are more likely to exist," Tsunade said, her tone abrasive even by her standards. "Like the Uchihas."

"Now, Tsunade," Hashirama said placatingly. "You don't want to be a test subject, and I understand that. That's why I volunteer to be researched myself."

Sakura blinked in surprise. She was sure Tsunade, however hypocritical it was, would not be satisfied by that. But she was also shocked by the mayor's generosity. "Are you sure you have time for that?" Sakura asked him. "I'm sure you're a very busy man."

"I can make time," he assured her. "In fact, I'm also allocating public health funds for this very purpose. Again, I need to make sure there are no risks here for my constituents. And if I lead by example, perhaps the other founding families will be more willing to participate."

Thick silence settled around them. Sakura wasn't quite sure what to say.

"Don't worry about it for now," Hashirama said, sensing the tenseness of the room. "Take yourself a long vacation and think it over." He rose to his feet and Sakura followed suit, though Tsunade remained petulantly seated. He extended a hand to Sakura, who shook it politely. "Let me know what you decide to do. I look forward to hearing from you."

He reached into his pocket and produced a contact card, which Sakura slipped into her dress pocket.

"Thank you, Mayor Senju," she said earnestly. He was offering her an extraordinary opportunity, after all. "I have a lot to think about."

With one last winning smile and then a reproaching glance in Tsunade's direction, he was gone, leaving Sakura and Tsunade alone.

The silence was deafening.

Sakura waited a moment to see Tsunade would speak, but when it became clear that she was going to hold her petulant silence, Sakura cleared her throat.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that you don't want me to do this," she posited.

Tsunade glared at her. "If you think I'm going to be excited that my family's dirty laundry is going to be aired for all of Konoha to see then I don't know what to tell you."

"Mayor Senju seems okay with it."

Sakura actually flinched at the vehement look Tsunade threw at her.

"You know we don't have to publish the research," Sakura said. "I know that's the part of this you don't like, but it's hypocritical to act all concerned about public health when you don't take your own seriously."

"That's enough, Sakura," Tsunade said, busying herself with a stack of papers on her desk. While some might have considered it rude, Sakura knew it for the favor that it was. She was at least trying to control her temper.

"I know you just want to embarrass the Uchihas," Sakura pointed out. Though she had only suspected it (Tsunade wasn't usually prone to fueling their families' petty rivalry), her reaction confirmed it. "But this is a good thing for your family and theirs. And you know you can trust me. I wouldn't publish anything that would tarnish the Senju name."

Tsunade still didn't look up from her desk.

"You're like a mother to me, you know."

This caught her attention, and though her gaze was harsh, Sakura was well-versed in Tsunade's expressions to see the affection buried somewhere in it.

"Take three weeks off," Tsunade said sharply. "You'll have a lot of work to do when you return."

"Yes, ma'am," Sakura said, trying to hide her grin.

/

Later that night, Sakura sat at her kitchen table with her phone in one hand and Hashirama's contact card in the other. She programmed the number into her phone, musing that something about having the mayor's phone number made her feel important. Even though she often rubbed elbows with Konoha's elite (never more than she had in the past week), it made her feel accomplished to be regarded personally by the mayor.

No sooner than she'd put the phone down on the table did it begin to ring. It was a number she didn't recognize, but she had a hunch as to who it was.

"Hello?"

"Sakura, darling," said Madara's voice on the line. "How are you?"

Sakura grinned and put him on speakerphone so she could move freely about her kitchen. "I'm good, Madara," she said. "I was just about to make myself some dinner."

"What's on the menu?" he asked.

"I was thinking a peanut butter sandwich."

There was a pause on the line while Sakura pulled a loaf of bread from the pantry.

"Listen, Sakura, I want to apologize for leaving so abruptly this morning," Madara said. She could hear a car horn through the phone. He must have been driving.

"I understand," she said, spreading peanut butter on her sandwich. "You're a busy man. No need to apologize."

"I don't plan to make a habit of it," he said. "You deserve my undivided attention."

Sakura laughed. "I don't know about that." His undivided attention felt rather daunting, and she wasn't sure that she _did _deserve it. "How was your day? Did you take care of all your business?"

Another pause. "It would be a lot better if you were here."

She wanted to ask where, but she thought better of it. "Well, the good news is that my three-week vacation officially starts tomorrow," she said. It was best not to ask him about his business for now. Her gut was telling her that she really didn't want to know. "So my schedule is wide open for that fancy date."

"Oh? That is good news, darling," he said. "Perhaps I should take you to the beach. Or are you more of a mountain kind of girl?"

It was entirely too soon to take a vacation with him; she wasn't even sure if she really liked him yet. Did she really want to be trapped with him for a few weeks?

"I was actually thinking about going on a cruise," she replied." Or maybe just a staycation so I could catch up with all my friends, maybe binge-watch some shows on Netflix."

"Don't go on a cruise," he said. "They're disgusting. You should let me take you somewhere nice. I've got a cabin on a lake just an hour away. We could really get to know each other."

Sakura winced. For all she knew he could have a sex dungeon he was trying to lure her to. "How about we start with that nice dinner? I'll let you take me to Pink Cantina."

"Well, it's a start," he conceded. "Tomorrow night?"

"Perfect," she replied. "That gives me enough time to find something to wear. Thank you for the dress, by the way."

"My pleasure, darling," he said. Even through the phone his voice was silky and rich. "I regret not being able to see you in it."

She heard a car door shutting and the hum of the engine disappeared. "If you'd like, I could take you shopping tomorrow," he offered.

Sakura scoffed. "I don't think so," she said. "I'm not a doll for you to play dress-up with."

Part of her expected him to demand that she allow him to take her shopping, so she was surprised to hear him laugh. She bit into her sandwich, wondering what could possibly be going through his head. He had confessed to hear his irritation with gold-diggers, yet he seemed insistent on treating her like a sugar baby.

"I meant no offense, sweetheart," he said. "I'm sure you can handle shopping without me this time. But one day we will play dress-up and you will make the prettiest little doll."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Your confidence is better suited for the bedroom."

"Come to my bedroom, then," he said. She could hear the amusement in his voice.

"Right now?"

"Now is preferable, but you can finish your sandwich first," he said teasingly. "You'll need your strength."

Before she could reply with something scathing, there was a loud knock at her front door. She took him off speakerphone and pulled the phone up to her ear. "I have to go, Madara. Someone's at the door," she said. "But you'll pick me up tomorrow for dinner?"

"I will," he said. "Eight o'clock?"

"Sounds good," she said. The knocking grew louder. "You need my address."

"Don't worry, darling," he said. "I've already got it." Sakura blinked, feeling a sudden twinge of something slightly unpleasant. "Goodnight, Sakura. I'll see you tomorrow." She didn't have a chance to respond before the line went dead.

A little irritated, she tossed her phone onto the sofa and wrenched open the front door. Ino stood there, her arms loaded with luggage and her face pulled into a peach-pit scowl. "Took you long enough," she snapped, pushing her way into the foyer.

"Ino, I was eating dinner," Sakura said with exasperation. They'd been friends since middle school, even though Sakura was used to her barging in like this it never failed to annoy her.

"You can keep eating," Ino said, making her way toward Sakura's bedroom. I just need to use your vanity. The lighting in your house is so much better than mine."

Sakura followed her, taking another bite of the sandwich. "You need all that to get ready?" she asked. "You got a date or something?"

"Yes!" Ino squealed, tossing a makeup bag onto the floor beside the vanity. "And you'll never guess with who."

"Who?" Sakura asked, curious but not in the mood for guessing games.

"Neji Hyuuga!"

This caught Sakura off guard. The peanut butter suddenly felt very dry in her mouth and she struggled to swallow.

"I know you guys had a thing way back in college, but I figured you were over that by now," Ino continued, digging through her bags and pulling out a fistful of makeup brushes. "We've kind of been talking for a while now, but he just asked me on a real date this morning and I couldn't turn him down. He's a Hyuuga! And he can be really sweet when he's trying."

Sakura felt her expression droop. She wasn't necessarily jealous, but it did kind of sting. Was that why Neji wouldn't entertain her flirting at the gala?

"Well I'm very happy for you," Sakura said. "What are you going to wear?"

Ino gave another squeal and for the next hour Sakura helped her get ready, straightening Ino's hair while she put on her makeup. It was sort of a nice distraction, and really Sakura had no reason to be upset about it anyway. She had Madara, after all. His attention was far more thrilling than Neji's could be, even if she was still highly skeptical about it.

When she was finally ready, dressed in a stunning and tight black dress, her hair smoothed and down about her bared shoulders, Sakura smiled in satisfaction at her handiwork. Which reminded her that tomorrow, she would have to do this whole process again on herself.

"Hey, Ino, before you go," Sakura began. "Are you busy tomorrow? Believe it or not, I have a date, too. I need you to go shopping with me so I can find something nice to wear."

"You?" Ino asked in shock. "You actually have a date? I'd thought you'd sworn off men after the whole Sasuke thing. Who's the lucky guy?"

Sakura wasn't sure she wanted to share that information right now. Her situation with Madara was still a bit treacherous, and well, it was rather embarrassing. He was much older than she was, and she knew it would very much look like a gold-digging scenario, even if she knew Ino would never think that about her.

"I'll tell you if it actually goes well."

Ino gave her a dry look. "Are you not expecting it to go well?"

Sakura gave a shrug. "I guess we'll have to wait and see," she said. "You know how I am."

"You've just got this storybook idea of what romance is," Ino offered as though Sakura needed her input. "You're expectations are high, as they should be. But sometimes they aren't very realistic. I hope you give this guy a real chance. And of course I'll be happy to go shopping with you tomorrow."

Sakura smiled and pulled her friend into a warm embrace. "Thank you, Ino," she said softly. "You look amazing. Neji is going to fall head over heels for you."

"Alright, alright," Ino said. "Don't mess up my hair."

/

The next day Sakura woke up in a fantastic mood. She made herself some pancakes and caught up on some of her favorite shows. She so rarely took time off work that she wasn't entirely sure what to do with herself. She was excited to go to Pink Cantina with Madara later, and a day of shopping with Ino actually sounded rather nice.

There was still some niggling part of her brain that was irritated about the whole Neji thing, and she couldn't quite wrap her mind around why it upset her so much. She _knew _it wasn't jealousy. She didn't actually like Neji anyway. But she didn't like that he had rebuffed her, even though that was par for the course. Sakura had never had much success with dating.

She knew that Ino was wholly correct about her high expectations. She'd spent so long pining after Sasuke, fantasizing and dreaming of the fairytale life they might have had together. She never really grew out of wanting that, even if she had grown out of her girlish crush on Sasuke.

But her expectations weren't exactly the reason for her failed relationships. It was the lack of a spark that caused her problems. That was one thing she knew she couldn't budge on. She wanted a man that could give her butterflies. A man that would excite her. That was why Madara, even with his brutish domineering, had captured her attention. She had never envisioned herself with a man like him (unless Sasuke counted in the familial way). She had always pictured settling down with a sensible man who would treat her well and respect her.

Madara was anything but sensible. His grandiose notions of romance were extreme even by Sakura's standard, and she wasn't sure that she could live up to _his_ expectations. Did he really expect her to fill the hole in his heart (or rather move it closer to its center?)

She wondered what his past relationships were like, why they didn't work out. Was Madara even the kind of man who wanted to be in relationships? His adoration of her seemed mostly sex-fueled, although Sakura was glad to know that he thought highly of her profession and the works she'd published in the paper.

Still, it seemed like a daunting task to be a woman good enough for Madara. How could a man like that not have his pick of the litter?

Sakura ruminated on these intrusive and self-destructive thoughts even as she tried on different cocktail dresses with Ino. Luckily, Ino prittered the whole afternoon about her _wonderful _date with Neji, so Sakura didn't have to speak much. It was difficult enough just to hear of Ino's relationship details. Ino didn't have Sakura's problems. She'd been in two long term relationships so far, and both had ended on relatively good terms.

"Oh, that's the one," Ino said when Sakura emerged from the dressing room in a shimmering peach colored dress. "It matches the undertones in your hair perfectly. And wow, your waist looks so tiny."

Sakura looked at herself in the mirror, appraising the dress for herself. It was tight, but flared out at the hips, and the high neckline covered her lack of cleavage without making her look too flat-chested. She wondered what Madara would think of it.

"Are you ready to tell me about this mystery guy yet?" Ino asked.

Sakura balefully shook her head. "I'll tell you after the date's over."

"At least tell me what he's like," she implored. "What does he do for a living? Is he hot?"

"Hottest guy I've ever met," Sakura called over the dressing room wall as she changed back into her clothes.

"Ooooh, have I met this guy?" Ino asked. "I'm the resident expert on Konoha's hottest men, you know. And let's be real, Sasuke, visually at least, is the hottest. Maybe his older brother. I know for damn sure you don't have a date with either of them."

Sakura scowled. "And why couldn't I have a date with one of them?"

"We've been down this road before, girl," Ino said pointedly. "Those Uchiha boys aren't worth your time."

Sakura desperately hoped that wasn't true.

"Wait, it's not one of them, is it?"

"No," Sakura lied. Well, half lied. It wasn't Sasuke or Itachi.

"So how did you meet this guy?"

"At the gala the other night," Sakura replied. "It was a pretty wild evening. Wild for me, at least."

She heard Ino scoff indignantly. "And why is this the first I'm hearing of it?" she demanded. "I'm your best friend; you have to tell me these things immediately!"

Sakura came out of the dressing room and fixed Ino with a knowing stare. "You know I've had a lot on my plate lately," she said. "In a couple of weeks I'll be starting my new research project and I need to start preparing for it."

"You obviously had enough time to plan a date," Ino countered.

Sakura glared harder. Ino looped her arm through Sakura's and began to drag her to the checkout counter. "Don't give me that look, Forehead. Come on. Lunch is on me."

/

At eight o'clock sharp there was a sharp knock at Sakura's door. Even dressed in her beautiful new cocktail dress with her hair artfully curled and pinned around her head, she still felt uneasy as she opened the door. Those pervasive thoughts of not being in Madara's league would not leave her alone.

Madara stood on her front step, dressed in a navy suit and black tie, perfectly tailored to fit his muscular but lean frame. "Look at you," he said with an infuriating and yet indescribably sexy smirk. He grabbed her waist and pulled her close to kiss her cheek. "Did you buy this dress for me today?"

"I did," she answered, trying to keep her voice collected. "Do you like it?"

He nodded. "You look stunning, darling," he replied. "You didn't need my help after all."

She snuck furtive glances at his face as he led her back to his car. They were sans Hidan this time, and instead of the black sedan, there was a red sports car in her driveway. He opened the passenger door for her and she stooped down into it. "This is a nice car," she said as he slid into the driver's seat.

"Would you like to drive it on the way back?" he asked. There was a charming grin on his face and Sakura felt a little of her apprehension dissipate.

"You'd let me drive your car?"

He shrugged and placed a hand on her knee. "You're a responsible girl," he said. "I trust you."

"Maybe," she said. "It depends on how much I've had to drink."

Madara laughed. "I think I'd like to have you sober tonight."

"Why is that, Mr. Uchiha?"

"Because I don't like the idea that you might need to drink in order to enjoy my company, doctor."

Sakura turned her head to look at him. She had enjoyed his company, however skeptical she was of it, even in her sober state. But she had a feeling he meant something different.

"You mean to sleep with you?"

He gave her knee a squeeze. "I understand that I might make you nervous," he said. He did, but Sakura scoffed with displeasure anyway. "You're safe with me, you know. I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

"Don't worry," she said appeasingly. "I wouldn't allow you to take advantage of me."

Madara gave her a pointed look and she could tell that he didn't believe her. It made part of her think he felt some sort of duty to protect her from herself, and she did not like that at all.

"What if I _do _need a drink to sleep with you?" she asked. "Are you okay with that?"

"Well, darling, I think I'd be rather disappointed," he said. She was surprised by his honesty. "But if that's the case, I'm sure it's not permanent. You will warm up to me."

"What if that takes a long time?"

"Then I suppose you'll have to get used to having me around."

Sakura felt warmth bubble up in her chest. "Is this you trying to be charming?"

He grinned at her. "Are you charmed?"

She gave him a dry look, but she did feel sufficiently charmed.

The restaurant was only a short drive away, and Madara pulled up to the curb so the valet could open the door for her. He tossed the man his keys, and then his hand was immediately on the small of her back. Tonight she wanted to test herself. It felt so good to be near him, to be pulled into his hypnotic orbit. In spite of herself, she did trust that what he wanted from her was genuine. She wouldn't need a drink.

"Mr. Uchiha," said the perky young hostess as they entered the building. "We haven't seen you in awhile. Would you like us to prepare your booth in the back?"

"Yes, please," Madara said. "And let the chef know I'm here."

Sakura glanced at him quisitively. She had only been to Pink Cantina a handful of times, and never without a reservation made months in advance.

The interior of the restaurant was cozy, filled with fairy lights and gilded booths. Fiddle figs were dotted between the tables and stained-glass cloaked bulbs hung low around them. Madara steered her to the left toward a seating area with a koi pond at its center and pointed into the depths of the water.

"These were my personal koi at one point in time," he said. "Some of them are almost two hundred years old."

Amazed, Sakura stared at the colorful fish. "How did the end up here?"

"When I bought this restaurant a few years ago I thought they would suit the mood here perfectly," he replied. "More people get to enjoy them here than when I had them at the Uchiha manor. And I know they're well taken care of."

"Wait," Sakura said. "You own Pink Cantina?"

"I own a lot of things," he admitted as though it were a confession.

"Mr. Uchiha, your booth is ready."

He walked her all the way to the back of the restaurant where a private booth was waiting for them. Tea candles surrounded a vase of white roses and a bottle of champagne was waiting for them in a gold bowl of ice.

A little impressed, Sakura slid into the booth with Madara right behind her. He sidled you close to her and pulled open the menu for them both to share.

"Are you always a McDonald's kind of girl?" Madara asked her. "Or are you okay with something a bit more sophisticated?"

Sakura gave him a sidelong glance. "I'm not a McDonald's girl," she said. "But I'll admit my palate is sort of childish."

"There's no chicken nuggets or peanut butter on the menu, but I'm sure the chef would take requests."

She gave him a wry look. "Are you negging me? Because that's not going to work."

"I'm just teasing you, darling," he assured her. "I know negging doesn't work on respectable women, and you know that's my type."

"I didn't know you had a type."

He nodded. "Oh, definitely," he replied. "Respectable pink-haired doctors."

Before she could reply, a large man approached the table wearing a chef's hat and a white coat. "Good evening, Mr. Uchiha," he said. "And madam," he added, nodding politely to Sakura.

"Choji," Madara greeted. "Good to see you again. What's fresh tonight?"

"Are specials tonight are a seared coconut vindaloo swordfish and honey garlic pecan chicken," Choji replied.

"We'll both have the swordfish," Madara said, passing the menu to the chef. "And some water for the table, please."

Sakura blinked at him as Choji shuffled away. "Do you always make a habit of ordering for your dates?" A waitress immediately approached the table and set down a chilled bottle of sparkling water. Madara popped it open and poured them each a glass.

"Swordfish is one of the best dishes on the menu, darling," Madara replied, not in the least bothered by her accusatory tone. "I want you to try it."

"That chicken sounded nice though," she said with a pout.

For some reason this made him grin. "Then tomorrow I'll bring you back here and you can have the chicken."

"I really ought to start planning out my research tomorrow," Sakura said, though she certainly didn't mind the idea of regularly coming to Pink Cantina. "I'll need to start working on it as soon as I return from vacation."

Madara frowned. "I thought your research was postponed," he said. "How did you get funding?"

"Fortunately for you, I'll be starting with the Senju family," she replied. "The mayor asked me to. He said he could spare some public health funds. He even offered his own genes to me since Tsunade seemed pretty hesitant about it."

"Did he now?" Madara asked dryly.

"Is that a problem?" Sakura asked. "It's a good thing, right? Now I won't need your money and you won't have to worry about your family."

His irritation was unmistakable, and Sakura briefly wondered if his intentions with her all along had been to control her research somehow. Was she really just a pawn in his game? Had all of this been a lie?

But then his expression softened and he reached for her thigh beneath the table. "It's wonderful news, darling," he said, giving her leg a squeeze. "It means we can spend that money on pleasure rather than business."

"I'm content without your money, Madara," she said.

"Right," he said. "It's my body you're really after."

Another waitress approached the table, this time with a bottle of wine. "From the chef, sir," she said, placing the bottle on the table. "It will be a wonderful complement to the swordfish."

Madara glanced at Sakura. There was still an untouched bottle of champagne on the table. "No, thank you," he said to the waitress. "No drinks tonight."

She bowed politely and then disappeared with the bottle.

"Sakura, darling," Madara said. "You really shouldn't spend your vacation working. I sense that you're hesitant to travel with me, but consider staying at the manor with me instead. You could leave whenever you wanted and I could get a chance to get to know you."

That was a decent compromise, she thought. She wouldn't mind staying in that planetarium he called a bedroom. Besides, it was a vacation. She should be relaxing. It would be a real treat to experience just a taste of Madara's luxurious lifestyle.

"Won't you have work to do?" Sakura asked him.

"Nothing that I can't handle with a phone call," he answered. "Besides, I could use a vacation myself. And do you know how often I think of you? It's hard to focus sometimes. You know how when you get a song stuck in your head you just need to listen to it to get it out? Maybe I ought to be listening to you."

Sakura smiled at him. She was starting to get used to his pattern of flattery and she hoped he would never stop. "Well, it's important that you be able to focus," she agreed. "I'd love to help you with that."

"Starting tonight?" he asked. "Sober?"

He leaned a little closer; she could feel his warm breath ghosting across her neck. His hand moved higher up on her thigh and she felt a swarm of butterflies jittering in her stomach.

"Yes," she croaked, intoxicated by his nearness, his charms and persuasions. Why would she need a drink when she had his presence. "Please."

"Good girl."

/

AN: Hope everyone is staying safe out there! All this covid-19 business is giving me quarantine one shot ideas. :) Be on the lookout for those.

In other news: my spacebar on my laptop is broken. :( That makes it impossible to get any writing done with it. I can't even take it to the genius bar bc all non-essential business are closed here. I've resorted to writing on my phone and my work computer, but it's slowing down the process a bit. First world problem, I know.


	7. Chapter 7

"Before we go any further, I think we should discuss your vacation plans," Madara said. They were back in his parlor, each with a belly full of swordfish. He had slipped off her strappy sandals which were on the floor beside the sofa and her feet currently rested in his lap. With the utmost tenderness, he rubbed the arches of her feet.

It was a height of luxury Sakura had never experienced before. He had offered the service himself, and she had never guessed him for a foot fetishist, but there wasn't anything perverse about it. He seemed genuinely pleased to be doing her this small kindness, especially since Sakura had complained (only once) that her shoes hurt her feet.

"What plans?" she asked, melting into the couch cushions. "I thought I could just stay here."

"You can," he assured her, "but we still have an agenda to set. What am I going to do with you now that I've got your undivided attention for a few weeks?"

"To be honest, Madara," she began, "I assumed staying in your house for a few weeks would just mean non-stop sex."

He gave her a devious grin. "Don't you worry. There will be plenty of time for that. But I'd like to mention once again that I do have more to offer than sex and money."

"What else does a girl need?"

His eyes darted toward the wet bar in the corner. Sakura shifted a little bit and he tightened his grip on her foot. "I don't need a drink," she insisted.

"No, but I think I do," he said. There was a dark quality to his voice.

She pulled her feet out of his lap, and he allowed it. She then leaned up onto her knees so she could bring her face close to his. "Why?" she asked. "Do I make you nervous?"

Madara's eyes were guarded when he looked up at her. This mischief there just moments ago was gone. "Truthfully, my darling, yes," he said. "You very much do."

Sakura wiggled her brows at him, trying to lighten the mood. "No need to be nervous with me, Mr. Uchiha," she said, pulling herself into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Do you think I'm judging you or something?"

The look he gave her indicated that that was exactly what he thought she was doing.

"You don't think very highly of the Uchiha family," he said. It wasn't really a question, but Sakura gave a half-hearted shrug. She had mixed opinions about the Uchiha family, especially now that she was involved with Madara. He was nothing like Sasuke, and even though there was an obvious dark side to him, he was incredibly patient and kind with her.

"I suppose it's hard not to take that personally, huh?" she asked.

"I'm a well-respected man," he said, reaching to tangle his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck. He pulled her into a chaste and gentle kiss. "But I'm not respectable. A respectable woman deserves a respectable man."

Part of her wanted to argue, but another part wondered what things made him not-so-respectable. Aside from her research, neither of them really broached the subject of work with one another. What exactly did Madara do besides own things? Was the Uchiha business really as corrupt as it was made out to be? Was that why he thought he wasn't respectable?

"Why aren't you respectable?" she asked.

"Why don't you think highly of the Uchiha family?" he threw back at her. She leaned back to sit on her heels and crossed her arms in a pout.

"That's not fair," she said.

"Is it not?" he asked. "I'm sure the answer to both questions is the same."

She rolled her eyes. "The Uchiha family has always seemed snobbish to me," she explained. "Very elite, you know? Back in grade school I had the biggest crush on Sasuke, and to me it seemed like he thought he was too good for me. You guys just exude arrogance. The only one of you who seems mildly humble is Itachi, but I think that's just because he's more reserved than the rest of you."

Madara hummed his acknowledgement. His eyes were on her body, but she could tell that he was listening. His fingers delicately skimmed her arms like she was a fragile flower petal whose softness he couldn't resist.

"I can't say I'm not arrogant," he said. "I won't go so far as to say that I think most people are beneath me, but I'm the patriarch of a founding family. I'm the richest man in Konoha. I am an elite, and I guess that shows."

Sakura glared at him.

He looked up at her face, sensing his shift in expression. He smiled at her in a sheepish kind of way. "But there are areas of my life that I'm not quite as confident in," he said appeasingly.

"Not sex," she snapped.

He laughed. "Well, no. But relationships definitely." His smile vanished and he looked like he wanted to kiss her again, but he didn't. "Not just the romantic kind, but personal relationships in general. Sometimes I conflate having a close physical relationship with having an emotional connection. Sex does something to you, wouldn't you agree? I felt so close to you that night at the gala, and I didn't even know you."

Straddling his lap, Sakura was able to feel his erection growing as he remembered that night. Sakura remembered it, too, though probably not as vividly. She wasn't quite sure they were on the same page anymore.

"I certainly enjoyed it," she agreed. "It did make me feel _something_. But I don't know that it made me feel closer to you. I thought you were just toying with me."

His hands sidled down her arms and landed on her ass, squeezing and pulling her harder against his lap.

"Do you still think that?"

She shook her head. "No, but I think your reasons for being interested in me are… dubious."

His expression darkened dramatically, but he didn't loosen his grip on her. "Explain," he demanded.

"At first I thought it was somehow related to my research," she said. She knew this was dangerous to discuss, but she trusted him enough to do it anyway. "Based on our conversation at the gala, I thought you wanted to fund it so you had control and were manipulating me with sex to some degree."

"I would never," he muttered under his breath, but Sakura wasn't so sure.

"But now I think you're lonely," she continued. "I think you want a real relationship and genuine affection. And I think you singled me out for that because you don't actually think of me as beneath you. You respect what I do."

Madara sighed deeply, his breath warm on her neck. "I don't just like you because you're a good pedigree, darling."

"I know, because I have no pedigree," she said. His erection was still growing in spite of the somber atmosphere and Sakura couldn't help but roll her hips against it. He stifled a groan.

"I want what Hashirama and Mito have," he murmured, leaning forward to press his face into her heated neck. "She loves him so much. I want a woman that will love me like that."

"They could have a shitty sex life for all you know."

Madara laughed into her neck and then kissed it.

"Do you think highly of Mrs. Uzumaki?"

"Yes," he replied. "She's smart, poised, elegant. Just like you."

"Oh."

He pulled back to look at her face and smoothed a tendril of hair away from her brow. He was looking at her with such unguarded longing and tenderness that Sakura felt herself beginning to blush.

"I know why my fascination with you seems disingenuous," he said, "but I'm being honest with you. You're beautiful and intelligent and dignified, and from where I'm standing you seem pretty perfect. I know what I'm saying might scare you a bit since this is all still very fresh. But you can set the pace at whatever speed you deem appropriate."

For a man so prideful, his vulnerability was astounding. And Sakura _was _afraid. She wasn't any better with relationships than he was.

"I don't know if I could love someone the way Mrs. Uzumaki loves Mayor Senju," she confessed. "I've never loved someone. Not romantically, at least."

"Neither have I," he answered and began to press slow, sensuous kisses on her neck and shoulders. His fingers reached for the zipper at the back of her dress and began to slide it down to the base of her spine. "We can learn together."

He pulled the dress down the length of her arms, exposing her chest to him. He reached for her breasts and fondled them with awe, flicking his gaze up to her eyes just long enough to give her a boyish grin.

"I will be good to you, Sakura," he said, picking her up just slightly so he could yank the dress over her ass and toss it to the floor. "I promise I will be a man who deserves you. I know you don't believe in love at first sight, but I do. I knew the moment I saw you that I didn't deserve you, but I will do whatever it takes."

His words made her nearly as breathless as his dexterous hands did. She couldn't have replied if she wanted to, but truthfully, she didn't know how to respond to that. It was a little intense for her, and she was glad she hadn't had anything to drink tonight or else those words might have buttered her up entirely.

Instead they made her feel uneasy. His expectations of her were so high. What did she know about a loving and committed relationship when she'd never been in one before? They still barely knew each other and he was talking about such serious things.

But she could tell that he genuinely meant what he was saying, and Sakura should have been flattered. To some extent she was, but how was she supposed to contend with the fact that he had selected her based on her similarities to Mito Uzumaki? Would he still want her if she wasn't a doctor? If she didn't have her face in the paper?

"What's wrong?"

His tortuous ministration on her breasts stopped, though Sakura had barely been paying attention to them. Her mind was absolutely racing. She wanted a drink very badly now. Madara peered up at her with concern, and Sakura's heart melted a little bit.

"I'm sorry," he said. "That was too much. I scared you."

Sakura shook her head and reached to tangle her fingers in his dark, silky hair. She pulled him into a kiss. "No," she said against his lips. "It's just a little overwhelming. No one's ever said things like that to me before. Did you mean it?"

"All of it," he assured her. "Every word."

She earnestly hoped that he was being honest. His charm was melting her, crumbling the exterior she had built up to protect herself from men like him. If this was all some kind of ruse, she was already screwed. It would crush her.

So she might as well just lean into it, right?

"I want you to be happy, Madara," she said.

He stood up, bringing her with him and then tossed her down on the sofa. He crawled overtop of her with feline grace and laughed with the most sexy and enthusiastic grin she had seen on him yet.

"Right now I'm very happy," he said, pressing his knee down between her legs and reaching his fingers toward her lace panties. "Happier than I've ever been."

"That's ridiculous," she said, but lost her breath when he pulled her panties aside to tease her.

His fingers still on her clit, he pulled his face up close to hers, still grinning. "No it isn't," he said. "What's the happiest you've ever been? I'd like to know what makes you happy."

Her head lolled back against the arm of the couch, her body twisting while his fingers worked a tightening coil of pleasure through her body.

"Right now," she said, writhing against his hand.

Her eyes were screwed shut, but she could hear him smile when he said, "You're only saying that because you can't focus."

She mewled softly as he continued to pleasure her with his hand, pressing kisses to her throat.

"Come on, Sakura. Think."

His kisses delved lower, sprinkled across her collarbone, and then down to her breasts. Sakura tried to access her brain, but her thoughts were blurry and unfocused. Nothing but the sensation of his ministrations could penetrate her mind. She arched her back when he captured her nipple between his lips and began to suck gently, but then harder.

She groaned and fisted her hands in his hair, holding him against her.

"Sakura," he said warningly. His fingers froze. He was holding her hostage in an infuriating kind of way.

Irritated, she shoved his hand away and sat up against the arm of the chair. "You know I can't think when you're doing that," she snapped.

"You look absolutely beautiful when you can't think," he teased. She could see he wanted to put his hand back, but instead he took her hand in his and kissed her palm. "Maybe you think too much."

"You just told me to think," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Well, yes," he admitted, "but you're thinking with your head. Think with your heart. Your heart is better at gauging happiness."

"How would you know?"

He gave her a disarming grin. His face was still lowered to her chest, but he raised his eyes to meet hers, resting his chin just above her bosom. "Because my heart is so full right now. It feels like it might burst. Have you ever felt like your heart might burst?"

Sakura breathed out, releasing something that was pent up inside her chest. She'd never felt like her heart might burst before, except she didn't know how else to describe the way it felt to have Madara look up at her with those adoring puppy dog eyes.

"A little bit right now," she murmured. She brushed the pad of her thumb over his eyebrow, imagining what a future with him might look like. She wouldn't mind being treated like this for the rest of her life. Madara had made it clear that he respected her. He adored her. All he was asking was to be loved in return. A love like Mito had for Hashirama. She didn't know them well enough to say whether she could do that. She knew nothing about their relationship. But did she have what it took to make Madara happy? She was at least willing to try, wasn't she?

"Because of me?" he asked. He was still smiling but his eyes were serious.

"Of course because of you, silly," she said. "It's hard not to be happy when you're treating me like a goddamn queen."

"You _are _a goddamn queen."

She grinned and shimmied down until her face was close enough to kiss him. There was a magical quality to his kisses that made her feel calm and weightless. If she could suspend any moment in her life in time and relive it over and over again, it would be this one. There was no care in the world while she was pinned beneath him, wrapped in the security of his arms. Maybe this _was _the happiest moment of her life after all.

Their kiss was languid and tender, soft and full of affection from both parties. Sakura's only regret was that she couldn't feel his bare skin against hers, so she began to untuck his shirt and pull it up over his chest.

"I like when you're eager," he teased, obliging her and lifting his shirt up over his head.

In lieu of a vocal response, Sakura let her hands wander his newly naked torso, flitting across his hardened muscles, marveling at his toned body and smooth skin. Madara's gaze was caught on her face, his head tilted in a curious sort of way.

"How should I please you today, Sakura?" he asked, though she believed he was asking himself rather than her. "How can I reward you for being such a good girl?"

Sakura let out a huff of a laugh. Something about the whole 'good girl' thing was endearing, if a little condescending. "You've rewarded me enough by being a good boy," she said mockingly, but gently.

Madara grimaced. "Let's not say that again," he murmured and bent down to capture her lips in another kiss. Sakura giggled against his mouth, twining her fingers in his hair. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist, tugging him closer against her. The velvet of the sofa was bristling against her back, and his hard body covered her with warmth. She sighed and melted into him, pleased with herself for not needing or wanting a drink in the moment.

They were interrupted by Madara's phone buzzing on the coffee table. He held onto her for one second more, relishing the sweetness of their kiss before he regretfully tore himself away to address his ringing phone.

"Hidan," Madara growled, swiping his phone from the coffee table. "What now?"

Both he and Sakura sat up, but Sakura kept her hands on his chest, letting them roam appreciatively.

"Yes?" he barked into the phone.

"I know you're busy," Sakura heard Hidan say, "but Mr. Fugaku is here. He will not leave."

"Shit."

Madara hung up without another word. He glanced at Sakura, whose expression was of concern but not worry. "Everything alright?" she asked.

He reached for his shirt and yanked it back down over his broad chest. "Yes, darling," he said soothingly, "but you need to get dressed. Fugaku is hard to get rid of and I wouldn't like him finding you naked here."

Obediently, Sakura retrieved her dress and shoes and began to dress herself. "What does he want?" she asked.

"To ruin my happiness, apparently."

Sakura had just finished buckling her sandals when a pair of footsteps approached the parlor door. Madara rolled his eyes as the door flung open, and instictively his stepped in front of Sakura. Tentatively, because she didn't know how he might feel about his family seeing them together, she reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. He spoke flowery words to her, but did he really mean them?

She inwardly sighed when he squeezed her hand back.

In the doorway stood not just Fugaku, but also Itachi and Sasuke. Taken aback, Sakura shrunk farther behind Madara. Sasuke had been annoyed to catch her naked in Madara's study, so he probably wasn't overly fond of finding her in his parlor now. Not that Sakura cared what Sasuke thought, but it was still a little unnerving.

"You never knock, do you?" Madara said, seething.

Fugaku glanced at Sakura before returned his focus to Madara. "I have urgent business to discuss with you," he said, making his way over to the bar. "If you could dismiss your company, please?"

"What's so urgent that it can't wait until morning?" Madara demanded. His hand held Sakura's so tightly she thought her fingers might snap.

"I'm not sure you'd want us to say in front of your flavor of the week," Sasuke said dryly. Surprised and annoyed, Sakura glanced over him. He was glaring at her, but at least Itachi had the dignity to look disgusted by the comment.

"Do you think it's prudent to insult a woman who used to be your peer?" Madara asked. Sakura was surprised by the composure in his voice because she could feel the surmounting tension in his body.

"It wasn't her I was insulting," Sasuke retorted.

Sakura was now wholly uncomfortable with the situation. She had no business being in the middle of their family drama, and there was obviously some tension between the branches of the family that she wasn't privy to. Unless, of course, this was somehow related to her research, which she knew was a point of contention between them. She sorely hoped that was not that care.

"Maybe I better go," Sakura said, stepping in front of Madara to face him. It was very tempting to lean up onto her tip-toes to kiss him goodbye, but he had a furious glower on his face.

"No," he said sternly. "Make yourself at home, but don't leave. I'll come find you when I'm finished."

Sakura glanced warily at Fugaku, who had poured himself a glass of whiskey and was taking leisurely sips. Sakura was reluctant to leave, mostly because she now had an insatiable curiosity about what was going on. Was this what she had to look forward to if she and Madara were to have a serious relationship?

Dutifully, she bowed her head respectfully and made her way to the door. As she slipped past Sasuke, he latched his hand around his elbow and brought his mouth close to her ear. "You can do better, Sakura," he whispered to her.

With as much dignity as she could muster, she shrugged out of his hold and slammed the door shut behind her.

/

Under any other circumstances, Sakura would have been happy to wander Madara's house and explore. There were so many doors, so many dark hallways, and well, he'd told her to make herself at home. But as much as she wanted to, she couldn't keep her mind of the turbulent discussion they must have been having in the parlor.

She found herself in the kitchen, sitting in his beauitful breakfast nook and gazing out toward the gazebo she'd sat in before that night at the gala. The star-filled sky seemed so vast here with no streetlights or skyscrapers there to pierce it.

Somewhere in the kitchen behind her she could hear Madara's staff bustling around. They mostly ignored her, probably figuring there was no need to speak to his "flavor of the week." That comment bothered her far more than it should have. She knew of Madara's philandering. Any many in his position of power and wealth was likely to do such a thing. It wasn't that his past irked her. It was the thought that maybe she _was _only a flavor of the week.

Absently, she stroked a few of the fronds on the fern that hung over the table. Had Sasuke meant what he said about her being too good for Madara? If he really thought so, then why had he acted like he was so much better than her back when she'd had her schoolgirl crush on him? Perhaps she wasn't giving him engouh credit. They were twice that age now; he could have matured a lot for all she knew. Her contact with him was so sparse.

"Dr. Haruno?"

Sakura glanced up and found Hidan standing in front of her.

"The staff is getting to retire for the evening." he told her. "Is there anything you need?"

She blinked in surprise. At least Hidan didn't seem to treat her like this week's flavor.

"Oh, no," she assured him. "I'm alright. Thank you, though."

He bowed his head. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight."

Hidan disappeared, and a few moments later the lights dimmed. Sakura resumed gazing through the window, wondering what was taking them so long. It had been nearly two hours, and her concern was growing into legitimate worry.

To distract herself, she made her way out to the gazebo. It was really a beautiful garden and she felt like she belonged there a little more in her pretty cocktail dress. The night air was chilly, but the scent of spring flowers warmed her. She looked up at the moon and smiled as she leaned back against the trellis and sighed.

If what they were discussing had anything to do with her research, she didn't feel the need to worry. Starting with the Senju should alleviate the Uchiha's fears a little bit. She had no desire to tarnish either family's name, and if push came to shove she could always leave the research unpublished. After all, it was far more important that it be done for health reasons than for academic acclaim.

Even though Sakura really wanted that acclaim.

"There you are." Madara stooped beneath the hanging ivy to enter the gazebo. "I was starting to think you'd left."

"And disobey a direct order?" she teased. "I would never."

He gave her a half-hearted smile. His expression was shadowed, guarded.

"Is everything okay?" she asked as he sat down beside her. He tucked her under his arm, providing some much needed warmth against the night's chill. She leaned into him, resting her head in the crook of his arm.

"It will be, darling," he assured her. "It's nothing for you to worry about."

"Does it have something to do with me?"

"Oh, not at all," he replied. "Of course the subject of your research did come up, but I told them you've postponed your research for now and that you intend to start with the Senjus. They seemed content with that for now."

Sakura tilted her chin up to look at him. "Then what was that all about?"

Madara grimaced and refused to meet her gaze. "Family business, darling," he said vaguely. "Perhaps I'll tell you some other time."

She didn't want to argue, because his family business was none of _her_ business. But it clearly bothered him and Sakura couldn't help but be curious. She would leave it be for now, but she would certainly bring up the topic later.

"It's getting late," Sakura mused. The moon was hanging high up in the sky, shedding silver light over the garden. "And cold." She shivered and Madara rubbed her arm to warm her.

Madara kissed the top of her head. "Well, let's get to bed then," he said. "I know the perfect way to warm you up."

He took her hand and led her back into the house.

/


	8. Chapter 8

Sakura could tell that the conversation in the parlor had definitely affected Madara's mood. By the time they had made it up to his bedroom, he had already removed most of both of their clothes. Madara's shirt and tie had been discarded in the hallway; Sakura's dress was crumpled on the floor in the elevator. He had lifted her into his arms, and with a lower energy than usual, he buried his face in Sakura's neck.

When they'd made it to the bed, Madara set her down gently and then folded himself around her. He let out a long, deep sigh that ruffled her hair and raised goosebumps on the back of her neck.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked. His chest was pressed against her back, his fingers absently twirling a strand of her hair.

"I love that you're concerned about me, darling," he said, his voice a low rumble in his chest. He pressed soft kisses to the back of her head, and his demeanor lent a morose vibe to the night that made it feel far more intimate than Sakura was sure she was comfortable with.

Sakura, much to her own surprise, found that she had been looking forward to sex tonight. She imagined herself always bending to his whims, eager to please and be pleased. But tonight she could tell that he was in a fragile state.

She flipped over to face him. He had a serious expression on his face, his dark brows knit together. She wanted to know what he was thinking, but she didn't have the courage to ask.

"Do you call everyone darling, or just me?" she asked instead.

This made him smile. Sakura was caught off guard by how handsome he looked backlit by moonlight. His pale skin seemed to glow and there was something inherently romantic about his aristocratic features.

"I call a lot of people darling," he replied, "but you are _my_ darling. Shall I reserve the name for you?"

She scooted a little closer. "I like it when you call me that," she murmured, her eyes feeling a bit heavy, though she wasn't quite ready for sleep.

He kissed her and gave a hum of approval. "I like it when you tell me what you like."

Now it was Sakura's turn to smile. "I like it when you kiss me," she said.

"Of course you do," he said and kissed her again. "What else do you like?"

She shifted even closer so the tips of their noses were brushing. "I like when you put your hand on the small of my back," she said, "and when you pick me up and hold me."

"I like doing those things," he murmured back. His mood was improving, but Sakura could still see the shadow in his eyes.

"Sakura, darling?"

"Yes?"

He reached up to cup her face and stroke the pad of his thumb across her cheek. "I would really like to take care of you," he said. "Do you think you would like that?"

She blinked, not quite sure she understood the question. "Take care of me how?" she asked.

"Provide for you," he explained. "Feed you, shelter you, love you."

Sakura didn't know how to answer that, particularly the last one. She thought she'd rather like to be loved. Who wouldn't? And Madara did such a good job of making her feel special now. If he loved her there was no doubt in her mind that she would very much enjoy his attention, his way of loving her.

But did she want to be taken care of? She had always done that herself. She was good at it. Madara could take care of her in many different ways, but did she need him to provide for her? To shelter her? Could she not feed herself?

A niggling and intrusive part of her brain wondered if he was essentially asking if he could own her. Isn't that what you would do for a pet? Not a woman you'd want a relationship with, right?

"Your silence means your answer is no, doesn't it?"

She met his gaze and felt alarmed by the intensity of his red eyes. She didn't want to be owned. She didn't want to _need _Madara. She wanted to love him, to be loved by him. But he was asking her for something different.

"I like taking care of myself," she said, trying to sound neutral. "I think I'm good at it."

Madara let out an amused chuckle, which was a better reaction than Sakura was hoping for. "Most respectable women are," he mused, "but I will take care of you anyway. You will want for nothing, do you understand?"

"Madara…"

He kissed her, probably trying to smother whatever rebuttal was poised on her tongue. She let him have his way this time, because she knew something was amiss, that he needed this comfort right now, even if he had to suck it out of her. She so badly wanted to know what that conversation had been about.

This kiss was fraught with desperation, which had never seemed to plague Madara before. Sakura felt disconcerted, and a little worried for him. She tried to take control of the kiss, to press herself more warmly against him and slow him down, alleviate the franticness he was exuding.

When he caught on to what she was trying to do, he slowed his pace and relaxed his vice grip on her face. His hands slipped down to her waist and then he wrapped his arms fully around her and gave another deep sigh.

"I'm glad you're here, Sakura."

"I like being here," she said, resting her cheek more snugly on his pillow. "I like that you want to take care of me."

"I want you to be happy," he said as if he were correcting her. "Let's make each other happy."

Feeling brave, and a little more energetic, Sakura pushed him onto his back, hiked one leg over him, and straddled his hips. With a smile, she leaned down, letting the tips of her hair tickle his chest, and kissed him.

"How can I make you happy right now?" she asked.

For the first time in hours, the smile on his face seemed genuine. But then as quickly as it had come, it disappeared. A little frustrated, Sakura laid her body down against his and propped her hands on his chest so she could rest her chin there. His hands came down to the small of her back, and even though the feel of his hands on her bare skin titillated her, Madara didn't seem to be in the mood.

"If I ask your opinion on something, will you be honest with me?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied easily. "Always."

"You've been frank about your thoughts on the Uchiha family," he began. Sakura was immediately alert. "Do you think I'm like them? Do I fit in?"

"Madara…"

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and sighed again. "Would you like me better if I weren't an Uchiha?"

Sakura gave an indignant scoff. "Of course not, Madara," she said. "You are an Uchiha, and I like you a lot."

She had hoped this would make him smile, but his eyes were still clouded.

"But what if I weren't an Uchiha?"

"I'd still like you," she assured him. "Is the Uchiha family disowning you or something?"

Madara averted his gaze. She followed it to the window where the moon was hanging high in the sky, a perfect circle.

"Is that what you were talking about in the parlor?" she pressed.

"I told you that's nothing for you to worry about," he said. He refused to look at her.

Sakura glared at him. "Well whatever it was has clearly put you in a bad mood," she hissed. "You don't want to talk about it, and you don't want to fuck, so what _do _you want to do?"

This brought his gaze back to her face. She caught barely a glimpse of the fierceness in his eyes before he'd flipped her over onto her back with surprising speed. He flung himself on top of her, pinning her arms high above her head. Sakura shrieked, but didn't struggle against his strong hold.

"Who says I don't want to fuck?" he demanded. He canted his head to the side and observed her, his eyes searching for something in her face. Sakura didn't know if he found what he was looking for.

There was a thick silence between them for a moment. Madara's intense red gaze made fire flood through her body. She could feel her pulse beating wildly in her neck and she was sure he could see it.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Sakura?" he asked, but she could tell by his tone that he already knew the answer.

Eagerly, she nodded.

"Don't move," he said. He brought her hands together above her head. "Keep your hands right here."

He released her and then stood up. When he reached for his silk robe, Sakura sat up with a burning curiosity.

"Sakura," he snapped. He reached for her hands and placed them back above her head, forcing her back down against the mattress. He leaned close to her face, his eyes even more serious now. "Don't. Move."

She glared vehemently at him, but she was beginning to feel a carbonated tingle between her legs, so she complied with his demands though she was sure her glare made clear her displeasure at being spoken to that way.

When Madara was sure she wasn't going to disobey him, he made his way to the elevator.

"Where are you going?" she called after him.

"I'll be right back," he assured her. "Don't move," he reminded her as the elevator doors slid shut.

Sakura had a feeling she knew what was coming. She was giddy with anticipation, even if she was a little nervous. She wriggled but didn't move her arms, though she doubted Madara would be able to tell if she did. She was more than happy to succumb to his perversions if it lifted his mood, and she had a particular feeling that whatever had been said to him tonight had hurt him far more than he let on.

She glanced over at the moon, which didn't feel like hers, but it did feel somewhat special. There was nothing quite like this view of it and she felt lucky to know that he shared this view with her and only her.

Restlessly, she watched the wisps of clouds roll across the sky. They glowed as they passed between the earth and the moon, ghostlike and eerie. It was dead silent in the bedroom; Sakura felt a little uncomfortable her by herself. She was eager for Madara to come back, but she couldn't bring herself to look over at the elevator doors. A watched pot never boils.

Minutes ticked by, and eventually Sakura sat up. She would hear the elevator and would return to her position when Madara got closer.

She got up and used the bathroom, using that time to freshen up before he returned. She was annoyed when she slipped back onto the bed. She watched more clouds roll by.

By the time a half hour had passed, Sakura was fully agitated. She moved to the foot of the bed and crossed her arms rigidly across her chest. She had half a mind to leave. Did he really expect her to just wait here for him?

But then the elevator doors rolled open. Madara stepped into the room, his robe open around his chest and a thick rope slung over his shoulder. He took one look at Sakura and glared with disapproval.

"I told you not to move," he said.

"Where the hell have you been?" she demanded, crossing the room to point a livid finger at his chest. "I've been waiting."

With graceful ease, his grabbed her around the waist with one arm and lifted her up over his shoulder. Sakura shrieked in protest as he flung her back onto the bed. "Get back how I put you," he instructed. He shrugged out of his robe and tossed it to the floor. Sakura sat on the bed with her arms petulantly crossed. He had absolutely no right to make demands from her after making her wait with no explanation.

When she made no move to obey him, he pulled the rope between his hands and stared down at her in an almost frightening kind of way. "Sakura," he said warningly.

"You owe me an explanation," she said.

"And what if I won't give you one?" he asked, darkly amused.

She reached to snatch the rope out of his hands but he quickly pulled it away from her grasp. "Then I guess I'll have to punish you," she said tauntingly.

He finally smiled, but it was a feral and cocky one. "How will you punish me, darling?"

"I'll leave," she threatened, though it was empty.

"You will do no such thing," he countered. "Come here."

"I will leave," she argued. "You're being very mean."

"Come here, Sakura."

There was something uniquely thrilling about his voice now, determined, low, and full of unspoken promises. She was annoyed that he had left her alone for so long, but she was pleased that the dark cloud in his eyes was gone, that he seemed entirely focused on the new task at hand.

With her tail between her legs, she crawled back toward the pillow and put her arms up like he'd had them.

"Good girl." He leaned down and gave her a hot, open-mouthed kiss that made Sakura nearly forget about being irritated. Her skin ignited and her blood began to pump harder again. He took hold of her wrists and began to expertly twist the rope around them. He then secured the rope to the headboard and gave a sharp tug to ensure that she wouldn't be able to move her arms.

Madara moved to stand at the end of the bed so he could appraise his handiwork. Sakura was motionless. Their eyes connected. There was a satisfied smirk on his face which morphed into something more heated when his gaze left hers and surveilled her nude body against his black silk sheets.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "Absolutely stunning."

Sakura tugged restlessly at the rope.

"Your safe word is 'red,' darling," he told her. "If you tell me to stop, I will not stop. Do you understand? You must use the safe word."

Sakura nodded. Her arms were tingling and her heart was thumping wildly.

"What is your safe word?" he asked.

"Red."

"Good girl." He tilted his head, red eyes meeting her green ones. "Now what should I do with you?" He moved back to the head of the bed and brushed the hair away from her face. "Should I punish you for moving? Or should I reward you for your patience?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but Madara covered it quickly with his palm. He crawled over top of her, straddling her chest with his hard thighs. "That's rhetorical, darling," he said, amusement glittering in his eyes. "I will decide."

Her eyes narrowed at him and she had a sneaky suspicion that he enjoyed her more when she was a little irritated.

Madara released her face and cupped both of her breasts rather roughly in his hands. He kneaded them, his focus on her face waning. Sakura grunted softly and arched her back when he began to tug sharply at her distended nipples. He pinched hard and Sakura cried out. Before she could complain, he shimmied down so that he could press his face to her bosom, to suck away the pain he'd caused.

Sakura's cry turned to groans of pleasure. She wanted badly to bring her hands to the back of Madara's head, to keep him pressed against her. His tongue was lithe and quick, his mouth hot and wet. The coil of pleasure inside her was slowly building and Sakura's legs began to tremble with anticipation.

He deftly switched back and forth between her breasts, pressing intermittent kisses to her neck, jaw, and mouth. Sakura's wrists strained against the rope, but they didn't give.

Madara continued to pepper kisses across her breasts, down her abdomen and over her hip bones. His fingers curled around her thighs and he gave a low hum of approval when his face dipped down between her legs and found a suitable wetness already there.

"Punishment or reward, Sakura?" he asked. She shivered when his breath ghosted across her clit and she would have bucked her hips up into him had he not been holding her down.

"Are you asking me now?" she asked breathlessly.

He brought his fingers up to spread her open for him. Sakura hissed at the unexpected feeling, but Madara only stared at her newly exposed flesh. It was exhilarating to have the most private and intimate part of her so close to his gaze. Somewhere in her mind she was embarrassed and wanted to press her knees together.

"I'm asking you," he said. He tore his gaze away from her crotch to meet her eyes. "I need to know what you want from me tonight?"

She tried to buck her hips again, but his fingers gripped her thighs with bruising force.

"Punishment."

His eyes glazed over with something deeply erotic. Sakura could tell he was pleased with her choice. He pressed his mouth against her clit and began to lavish her with his tongue in a languid, teasing sort of way. Sakura mewled, pulling against her restraints, bending her legs and twisting her body. She wasn't sure she actually liked having her hands tied; she wanted so badly to touch him.

"Be still, Sakura," he said warningly. She relaxed her body and allowed him to continue, moaning with the pleasure broiling up inside her. His stubble was course against the soft skin of her inner thigh and his ruby red gaze made fireworks shoot up in her chest. It took every ounce of her self-control to remain motionless.

He continued those sinful ministrations until Sakura was tensely writhing beneath him, bordering close to a crashing orgasm. Her hands were fisted around the rope, her lower lip crushed between her teeth.

Just as he had nearly tipped her over the edge, he pulled away.

"Madara!" she screeched, her hips bucking wildly into the air now that he was no longer between her legs.

"Shh," he murmured soothingly. She glared at him, but his amusement at this torture was visceral. He looked genuinely gleeful. He took hold of the rope above her wrists and twisted it, climbing over top of Sakura and flipping her over onto her stomach. She grunted and flailed for a moment, feeling unfinished slickness sliding down her leg. "Grab hold of the rope," he instructed. Sakura obeyed. "Hold yourself up."

His hands roamed her back, roughened palms smoothing over her silky skin. When he reached her ass, he spread her cheeks apart and prodded her with his thumbs. Then his mouth was there, teasing and torturing her all over again.

On her knees, she had more control. She threw herself back into his face, desperate for that release. She panted, clinging to the rope with fervor.

"You're not being still," he said, his lips against her still.

She couldn't have been still if she wanted to. Her legs were quivering, her soft moans growing louder and shriller. "Madara, please," she begged.

The pace of his tongue quickened, and then he inserted his thumb into her ass, groaning with delight at this sinful and cruel game he was playing with her. The new sensation of fullness was too much. The coil inside her was tightening, his deft tongue too skilled to torture her like this for too long.

Abruptly, he pulled away again and Sakura screeched with dismay. She nearly collapsed against the mattress, but she held firm to the rope, panting and beyond irritated. She craned her neck to glare at him.

"We'll need to work on your stamina, darling," he said, his grin infuriating.

"Please, Madara," she said, "Just—"

He leaned across over the length of her body to silence her with a harsh kiss. "You wanted to be punished," he reminded her. His hands were between her legs again, and then she felt the tip of his erection against her opening. She pushed back against him, aching with need for him, frustrated by the constant coiling and uncoiling feeling in her gut.

"Oh, you want this so badly," he said. "Don't you, darling?"

"Yes," she implored. "I need it. Please."

He pushed himself inside her, and she almost came that instant. He was languid, his breath labored and intense against the back of her neck. He kissed whatever skin was available to him – her shoulders, her back, nipping sharply at her ear. She groaned and tried to rock herself against him but he held her hip firmly with one hand.

Then he spanked her hard. She cried out in shock as he pulled himself back onto his knees. He spanked her again and gave a throaty groan. He was sheathed deep inside her and for a moment neither of them moved. She could feel his hardness throbbing inside her; she knew he wanted it just as badly as she did.

"Go on, then, Sakura," he said. "Take what you need. Make yourself come."

Needing no more permission than that, she began to thrust herself back into him. Her motions were frantic and a little clumsy since she had to hold herself up with the ropes, but Madara made no move to help her. He hummed in approval, his hands on her ass but applying no pressure.

"Good girl," he murmured through stilted grunts. "Just like that."

She bounced against him, relishing in the fullness of him sliding in and out of her, the smack of her thighs against his. Her wrists were beginning to hurt and her stomach clenched as she struggled to hold herself up but she didn't care. The coil was building again, her vision blurring. Intense pressure between her legs gave her more resolve; she doubted her own ability to make herself come, but she needed it more than anything now.

Her pace became wild. She was enamored by the soft pants and groans Madara was making and even by her own wanton noises. Spots filled her vision and her moans peaked an octave higher.

And then Madara lost his remaining control and began to pump into her so forcefully the headboard began to shake. Sakura cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. He was so deep inside her, so big and hard and fervent.

Sakura's orgasm crashed over her so violently that she screamed and let go of the rope, letting her upper body hang from the headboard as he continued to pound away, seeking his own release. Colors exploded behind her eyes; every inch of her body was alive. The wave of pleasure smacked her down into lethargy, but Madara's continued thrusting gave her no time to recuperate before another coiling pleasure was brewing inside her.

Madara reached around her leg and found her clit, stimulating it with his deft fingers. Sakura wanted to tell him to stop because the sensation was just too much. She felt like she might explode if he continued, but she couldn't find her breath.

Roughly, he yanked her up by the waist; her arms strained against the rope. He slid his hand away from her clit and up toward her face and forced two fingers into her mouth. Instinctively, she began to suck them, tasting her own flavor on his skin. He gave another shuddering groan, his thrusts deep and wild.

His hot release filled her and she felt herself close to the brink again. To her utter dismay, he slipped his softening member out of her, but then quickly replaced it with the fingers that had just been in her mouth.

"One more time for me, darling," he cooed, fingering her with textbook skill and ease. His mouth descended on her one more time, joining his hands in pleasuring her. She didn't think it was possible to come twice in such quick succession, but almost immediately another wave smacked her. She screamed again, convulsing against his fingers, pressing her center back against his face until the coil had subsided and her bones were weak and limp.

Out of breath and energy, Sakura sunk to the mattress, letting her arms hang painfully above her head.

"Don't hurt yourself," Madara warned, crawling over her to release the rope. He tossed it to the floor beside the bed and Sakura rolled over onto her back, splaying herself across his soft sheets with absolute exhaustion.

She peered up at him with heavy lidded eyes, bemused by his concerned expression. He perched his elbows on either side of her, blinking his thick lashes over his focused red eyes.

"You're on birth control, right?"

Sakura laughed. "It's a little late to be asking that."

He kissed her with the utmost tenderness and the stared down at her with unwavering admiration. "I didn't peg you for a screamer," he teased.

"You tortured me," she accused.

"You've got to crack a few eggs to make an omelet," he replied.

She laughed again. "That was the best omelet I've ever had."

He kissed her again and then pitched himself down on the mattress beside her. "We are really going to be something, Sakura," he told her.

Sakura rolled onto her side to face him.

"Did you enjoy being punished?" he asked.

She nodded. "You weren't really punishing me, were you?" she asked. "You were just playing with me."

"What makes you think that?"

"I think you're capable of far more sinister things."

He smirked. "Undoubtedly," he agreed, "but with you? Maybe not."

"Why not?" Her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy and she could see the light of early morning beginning to crest over the cityscape through his window behind him.

"Because."

He rolled away from her to face the window. Sakura scooched up behind him and curled herself around his body. "Because why?"

Madara reached for her hand and held it against his chest. "Because sinister punishments are for the wicked," he replied, "and you are not wicked."

"I can be wicked."

"Nothing about you is wicked, Sakura," he said. He almost sounded weary. "You're an angel."

Sakura pouted. "Like a dark angel, though."

He snorted. "No," he insisted. "A blessed pool of light."

She didn't know why that displeased her so much. "But other girls have gotten your sinister treatment, right?" she asked. "Why can't I?"

"Go to sleep, darling."

"Madara."

"What?"

"I didn't have to use the safe word," she said. "I didn't even ask you to stop. I can handle it, I promise."

"It's not meant for you," he said. "Now go to sleep before I tie you up again."

Sakura made a noise of disapproval and rolled onto her back. What good was it to be with a dangerous man like Madara if he didn't want to do wicked things to her? A minute ago she had been on the brink of sleep, but now she felt wide awake. What if Madara missed those wicked things? Would he grow tired of her eventually? Would he find someone else to do those wicked things with?

She felt him roll over to face her, but she stared up blankly at the ceiling.

"Sakura."

She refused to look at him. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Your eyes are wide open."

She sent a glare in his direction. "I can handle your wicked side just like those other girls can."

"You sound jealous." There was a hint of a smirk in his voice.

"What if I am?"

He grabbed her chin and turned her face toward his. His eyes were warm and affectionate. "That's cute," he said.

Sakura shoved his arm away but he only brought it right back to her face so he could pull her into another kiss.

"No, it isn't," she said, smacking his hand away again. "What if you leave me for someone you can do sinister things to?"

Madara's brows snapped together. "I'm not going to do that," he said dryly. "I don't want to do sinister things. I want to take care of you."

That should have consoled her, but for some reason it only made her more irritated. She scowled at him.

"Sakura, don't be like that," he said. "I will make you happy, okay? I'm serious."

"Do you say that to every flavor of the week?"

Madara's jaw clenched. Great. Now they were both irritated. But then his face relaxed and he loosed a heavy sigh and drew himself closer to her. "A week would not be long enough with you, Sakura," he said earnestly. "The rest of my life would not be long enough." He tucked her into his chest, resting his chin on the top of her head. For a moment Sakura felt trapped in his hold, but something about his posture made her soften.

"It's too soon for you to know that," she mumbled into his chest.

"No, I knew it the moment I saw you."

She rolled her eyes, knowing he couldn't see it. He pulled back just enough that he could see her and his eyes were intensely serious.

"What did Sasuke say to you before you left the parlor?" he asked.

There was no way around answering the question, and Sakura knew it had been bullshit anyway. "He said I could do better."

"Well, he was probably right about that," Madara conceded. He pulled Sakura back against his chest.

"I don't think so," she said.

"Go to sleep, my angel," he said. "We can argue more in the morning."

"We're not arguing."

"Shh."

/


	9. Chapter 9

Sakura woke to a loud peal of a thunder. Rain pounded in thick sheets against Madara's bedroom window. A quick glance at the clock told her it was well into morning hours, but the sky was still intensely dark. Madara's head was nestled in the crook of her shoulder, his sleep-tousled hair soft against her cheek. She gave a contented sigh and brought her hand up to smooth it down. His breathing was still deep, so Sakura closed her eyes and settled herself more warmly against him.

She wasn't usually the type to sleep in, and she had a feeling that Madara wasn't either. But this was her vacation and it was immensely satisfying to stay snugly wrapped in his arms. The rain was soothing, and if it hadn't been for the second crash of thunder, Sakura might have been able to fall asleep again.

This time it woke Madara, too, who stretched the length of his body in a very cat-like fashion. His hands came to her waist and he hummed with delight, holding her against him.

"Good morning," Sakura said, combing her fingers absently through his hair.

"Good morning, darling," he said, lifting his head to look at her. He gave her an eye-crinkling grin. "Did the storm wake you?"

"Yeah," she said, "but it sure does look incredible from up here. I feel like I'm in a fish tank."

He glanced over his shoulder at the window where streaks of rain obscured the view of the city below. "Yuck," he said. "It would have been nice to take you to have brunch, but I suppose I could whip something up for us here."

"You?" she asked incredulously. "You mean have your staff whip something up?"

Madara gave her a half-offended glare. "I have a few recipes in my repertoire," he said, "and I would love nothing more than to make a delicious meal for you."

"You don't strike me as the cooking type," Sakura replied. "What can you make?"

He rolled on top of her and fixed her with a determined look. "Anything you ask for, darling," he said with confidence. His arms poised on either side of her head, he brushed the hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. "How could I deny the most beautiful woman on earth whatever she wanted?"

Sakura gave a dry, but amused chuckle.

"You can plan out your research while we eat," he offered. "I know you're eager to begin working. Perhaps I can give you a bit of my DNA?" he added with a smirk.

Sakura swatted at him playfully. "I'll actually need Mayor Senju's DNA first," she said, "but that's a great idea. I'd love something to eat."

Madara's face darkened at the mention of Hashirama, but he lowered his face to kiss her properly and then rolled out of bed. "Very well, darling," he said, extending his hand to her to help her out of bed. "What would you like?"

"An omelet."

/

Sakura stared at her phone screen while Madara bustled around his massive kitchen. She sat in the breakfast nook, her back propped against the windowsill. She really ought to have been trying to schedule lab time and make appointments for the Senjus to come into the office to provide DNA samples. Even with her calendar opened on her phone, she wasn't able to concentrate on anything but Madara.

He was an absolute whirlwind in the kitchen. He couldn't have been making more noise if he tried. But it was adorable that he was trying at all, when he was clearly very out of his element. Sakura had her doubts about his claim to be able to cook, and this only confirmed it. He fumbled around with a frying pan, staring at the eye of the stove as if it were an ancient rune he was trying to decipher.

Amidst all the commotion, he had attracted the attention of a few of his staff. A woman Madara presumed to be his personal chef ambled into the kitchen, her hands on her lithe hips.

"Mr. Uchiha, what are you doing?" she asked politely, though there was an undercurrent of a reprimand in there. "I'm happy to make whatever you want."

"I'm making breakfast today, Ayumi," he said, turning to give her a proud grin. For whatever reason, this warmed Sakura's heart. "Do you want an omelet?"

"Forgive me, but last time you tried to cook something you nearly burned the house down," Ayumi replied. "You don't even like to cook. Just let me fix you an omelet."

Madara gave her an appalled look. "It's not for me, darling," Madara said to her and pointed to Sakura, who gave Ayumi a sheepish grin. "It's for my girlfriend, and I think it would taste better if I made it."

Ayumi blinked in surprise, her lips slightly parted. "Girlfriend?"

Sakura, too, stumbled over that very serious word. She wouldn't refute it in front of his chef, but it irked her that he would say it so nonchalantly.

"Take the day off, Ayumi," Madara instructed. "I promise I won't make a mess of your kitchen."

Ayumi's gaze lingered on Sakura a moment longer, her brows knit together in confusion. But then she respectfully bowed her head. "Very well," she said. "Thank you, Mr. Uchiha."

Madara returned his attention to the stove and Sakura returned her attention to Madara. "Since when am I your girlfriend?" she asked him once Ayumi had left the room.

"Oh, should I have asked your permission first?" he teased. "I thought I could just declare you as my girlfriend."

Sakura let out a miffed groan and looked back at her phone. If she reserved the lab for a week, she could begin her research as soon as her vacation over as long as she had a DNA sample to work with. She should call Mayor Senju and arrange an appointment. He was surely a busy man and she'd like to get that out of the way as soon as possible.

"Sakura, darling?"

She looked up from her phone. Madara was whisking eggs in a bowl, but his eyes were on her. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked with an infuriatingly charming grin. His mood seemed to have vastly improved from last night.

"Yeah, sure," she replied. She had Mayor Senju's number in her phone and it was nearly noon now. She hit the call button and put the phone up to her ear.

"Do you know what I just asked you?" Madara asked dryly.

"If I wanted hot sauce with my omelet?" she teased.

Madara glared at her. He now had the eggs sizzling in the frying pan or he might have come over to give her a proper scolding. Even from here Sakura could see that the pan was too hot. He was going to burn her omelet.

"Hashirama speaking," said a voice through her phone.

"Mayor Senju," Sakura said. "It's Dr. Haruno." Her gaze flicked up when she heard a loud clatter and she saw that Madara had dropped his spatula.

"Good morning, Dr. Haruno," Hashirama said. Sakura could hear the smile in his voice. "Shouldn't you be on vacation right now?"

"I am," she assured him as she watched Madara leave the omelet to burn on the stove while he rinsed the spatula in the sink. "I just wanted to go ahead and confirm an appointment for you to come into the lab in a few weeks. That way I can get started on my research as soon as I return without having to worry about the logistical things."

"Of course," Hashirama said. "Well, I'm driving at the moment. On my way to an important meeting. But I'll text you the number to my secretary and she'll be able to handle all of that for you."

"Thank you," Sakura replied. "Sorry to bother you."

"No bother at all, dear," he said brightly. "Enjoy the rest of your vacation."

"Will do."

The line disconnected and Sakura put her phone down on the table. She got up to inspect Madara's work.

"That was Hashirama?" Madara asked as he tugged on her arm to pull her away from the stove. He put himself between her and the burning omelet, quickly pulling the frying pan off the heat. "You didn't need to call him."

"Why not, boyfriend?"

Madara faltered a bit but turned to give her an endearing grin. "Because he's probably on his way here right now."

"What?" she demanded. "He said he was on his way to a very important meeting."

"Well, we usually play a very important game of golf on Mondays," he replied sheepishly. "I forgot."

"You can't play golf in the rain," she pointed out.

"I can't play golf when I'm with my girlfriend," he said without missing a beat. "I'll make him leave." He plated the suspiciously dark omelet for her.

She took the plate, eyeing it with scrutiny. "What if he sees me here?" she asked. "Won't that look… weird?"

"Why would it look weird for me to have my girlfriend over?" he asked.

"Madara…"

He grabbed her shoulders and steered her back toward the table. "Sit and eat, darling," he said. "There's nothing to worry about."

Sakura prodded at the omelet. "I just don't want him to think less of me."

"Ouch."

Her eyes darted up toward his as he took the seat opposite of hers. "That's not what I meant," she said quickly. "You said yourself you hook up with a lot of gold-diggers, and all that flavor of the week business… I just don't want him to get the wrong idea."

Madara frowned, but it was a serious kind, like he was deep in thought rather than upset. His eyes lingered on her burnt omelet.

"Do you remember when I asked you to be my girlfriend?" he asked.

"You mean two minutes ago?" she asked facetiously. "Yes, I remember."

Madara was unfazed. "Did you mean your answer?"

Now it was Sakura's turn to frown. Dating had never been her priority, nor her strong suit. Her attempts at it thus far had only yielded failure, but with Madara it all felt so easy. Too easy. He was almost too perfect to believe. She couldn't explain why her heart was so hardened against him, but she could think of no logical reason to deny him. And she didn't want to. Why couldn't she deserve a man who was almost perfect?

"I meant it," she finally said. "This means you want to be exclusive, right?"

He nodded solemnly.

"So I have to break up with my other boyfriends?"

"You know I love your teasing, darling," he said, "but let's be real. You can only handle one man at a time."

"Maybe not even that."

He gave her a wolfish grin. "If it means so much to you, we can test your limits today," he told her. "I can do wicked things to you to your heart's content."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You'd do wicked things to your _blessed angel_?"

"I'll do whatever my blessed angel desires," Madara conceded, "as long as she eats all of her breakfast."

Both of them looked down at the dark and mangled omelet on her plate. "Madara, it's burnt," she pointed out. "Let Ayumi make me one."

Madara shook his head. "You'll eat the one I made," he insisted. "Ayumi has the day off."

"I'll make another one myself, then."

"No, you will not," he said firmly. "You will eat this one."

Sakura shoved the plate across the table toward him. "I'm not eating that."

"Then I guess I won't be doing wicked things to you."

She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. She was wearing nothing but Madara's black silk robe and as soon as her arms crossed, Madara's gaze dipped down to explore the newly accentuated cleavage there.

"Darling, I made it just for you," he said with a teasing grin.

"You'd really make me eat something I don't want to eat?" she demanded.

"I'll make you do a lot of things that might not sound enticing to you," he pointed out. "You asked me to. We're starting small. Eat the omelet."

She glared at him and was beginning to wonder if she really wanted to see Madara's wicked side. She didn't mind making some sacrifices for him, giving her body to him. What she absolutely didn't want was to lose her autonomy. She would only do what _she_ wanted to do, and if that aligned with what he wanted, great.

The omelet stared up at her from the plate with charred black bits that look liked eyes. She supposed it was fine to eat it, even if it was burnt to hell. She glanced up at Madara's face as she took the tiniest bite.

"Good girl."

A digital chime rang throughout the house. Madara made no move to get up to answer it; he merely watched Sakura take increasingly bigger bites. It wasn't so bad, just a little dry. She could hear someone in the entryway answering the door and then Mayor Senju's voice seemed to fill the whole house.

Sakura wasn't quite sure that she wanted the mayor to know of her budding relationship with Madara, but she wouldn't be able to hide it now. She was wearing his bathrobe for Christ's sake.

"No golf for us today, friend," Hashirama said boisterously as he entered the kitchen. He paused when he saw Sakura at the table and then his gaze flicked to Madara. He was damp from the rain and wearing sweatpants. Had the circumstances been different, Sakura might have ogled him for a moment. She had never seen the mayor wearing anything short of a freshly pressed suit.

Madara, who wore only his boxers, rose to greet his friend. "Sorry, Hashirama, I'm going to have to take a raincheck today," he said.

"You didn't tell me you'd have company," Hashirama accused.

"I believe you know my girlfriend," Madara replied easily. "Sakura."

Feeling extraordinarily uncomfortable, Sakura got to her feet. "Mayor Senju," she greeted. "It's good to see you."

In spite of being caught in his lie, Hashirama was exceptionally warm and pleasant. "Good to see you, too, Doctor," he said. "Madara didn't tell me he was seeing you."

Sakura pulled the robe tighter around herself.

"Eat your omelet, darling," Madara said to Sakura. "Hashirama and I will be up in the parlor when you're finished."

Before Sakura, who found herself entirely appalled, could respond, Madara was already dragging Hashirama toward the hall. Annoyed, she glanced down at the half-eaten omelet. If this was what it meant for him to be _wicked _then he was right. She didn't want this at all.

As soon as they were out of sight, Sakura tossed the omelet into the trash. As quietly as she could, she followed them to the parlor and stood outside the closed door with her ear pressed against it.

She didn't consider her actions to be wrong, although the more rational side of her had decided that eavesdropping was a form of snooping that was inherently wrong. In this case, she felt justified. There was no way they weren't discussing her.

"She's too young for you, Madara," Sakura heard Hashirama say, "and she's so bright and talented. All that verve is wasted on you."

Sakura was shocked to hear that coming from the mayor, especially given that he was friends with Madara. She didn't know exactly how close they were, but she knew they had been friends since childhood.

"What do you mean wasted?" Madara asked. "That's exactly what I need."

"Maybe, but what does _she _need?" Hashirama pressed. "Don't toy around with her just because you can."

"Trust me, Sakura wouldn't let me toy around with her," Madara said dryly. "Besides, I'm very serious about her."

"Since when are you serious about anybody?"

"I can be serious."

There was a pause. Sakura's heart felt like it would thump right out of her chest. It was easy to be not to be swayed by honeyed words when he said them right to her face but hearing him confirm it to Hashirama secured what she had only hoped was true until now.

"Madara, I've known you a long time," Hashirama said. "Your predilections with women are concerning."

"And what reason do you have to be concerned about Sakura?" Madara demanded. "She's far from the first girl you've caught me with."

"She's Tsunade's student," Hashirama snapped. "Her research is important. I don't want you fucking around with it."

"Ah, so this is about her research then," Madara said. Sakura pressed her ear closer to the door. "Are you afraid my relationship with her will affect her findings?"

"Heartbroken people don't do their best work."

"Good thing her heart's intact then."

There was another long pause.

"I can't tell you what to do, Madara," Hashirama said. "I just think you ought to be careful with her."

"I know it's hard for you to believe," Madara replied, "but I'm genuinely interested in her. I'm not going to hurt her."

Sakura heard the clinking of glasses at the bar. She should walk away now; it seemed that the relevant part of their conversation was over. But something made her linger there a second longer.

"So did you ever get things resolved with Fugaku?" Hashirama asked.

Madara let out a frustrated groan. "He wants to remove me as CEO and probably oust me from the family while he'd at it," he said. "He's got the power to do it, too. His branch of the family is the biggest stockholder in the Uchiha company at the moment."

"Your profits are fine," Hashirami said with disbelief. "Surely it can't be personal."

"Oh, it's personal."

"Dr. Haruno?"

Sakura leapt at the sound of her name, bringing her hands to her mouth to stifle her surprised shriek.

"Hidan," she said, catching a glimpse of the silver-haired man approaching. "I was just…"

"Eavesdropping?"

Guiltily, Sakura looked at her feet. She tied her robe tighter around her waist, feeling intense shame burn hotly in her cheeks. "You're not going to tell him, are you?" she asked.

Hidan cocked his head to the side. "I think Mr. Uchiha really likes you," he confessed. "I wouldn't want to be the one to give him any bad news about you."

"They were talking about me," she explained. "I wasn't—"

"I understand," Hidan assured her. "However, I don't think you should make a habit of it. Mr. Uchiha is a very private man. Your secret is safe with me this time."

She nodded solemnly. "Thank you."

Hidan bowed to her and left. When he was gone, Sakura let out a sigh of relief. She definitely would make sure not to get caught doing that again.

She knocked on the parlor door and without waiting for a reply, entered. Madara and Hashirama were sitting together on the sofa, each with a drink in hand. They both smiled at her when she entered, which made Sakura feel a little better.

"Finish your breakfast, darling?" Madara asked.

"Yes," she lied. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to go home and get dressed."

The look Madara gave her was disarmingly intense. "You don't need my permission, darling," he said, though Sakura assumed that was for Hashirama's benefit. Madara loved control, or at least the semblance of it, and Sakura knew that very well.

"Can I borrow one of your cars?"

Madara gave a loud, nearly obnoxious laugh. "I'll have Hidan drive you," he replied. "I'll take you for a drive sometime when the weather is nice."

Sakura glared at him. "You don't trust me?" she demanded. "I'll come right back."

He gave a beaming grin. "I'm delighted to hear it," he said, "but I absolutely do not trust you to drive my cars. I don't even trust Hashirama to drive them."

"That's true," Hashirama chimed in. "We're had many a fight over it."

"You text while driving," Madara pointed out dryly.

"But I wouldn't if I was driving your car," Hashirama answered.

"You shouldn't do it at all."

The pair glared at one another while Sakura stood awkwardly in the doorway. "Okay, well, if I'm going to be staying here for a couple of weeks, I'll need to know our itinerary," Sakura said, "so I'll know what to pack."

"Lingerie," Madara replied without missing a beat.

Sakura felt herself turn scarlet and averted her gaze.

Hashirama groaned. "For a moment I thought Sakura had turned you into a decent gentleman," he said.

"He can be respectable when he wants to be," Sakura supplied.

Madara stood up and came over to her, his face apologetic though his hands were definitely not when they slipped beneath her robe and around her waist. "Forgive me, darling," he said, kissing the top of her head. "I planned to take you out on my yacht this week. We can spend some time on the beach. We'll both get a real vacation."

"Okay," Sakura agreed. "I'll go find Hidan."

"Take your time." He lowered his face to hers and kissed her chastely and tenderly.

/

By the time Sakura had packed and Hidan was pulling them back into the garage, the rain had let up to a light sprinkle. While Hidan hefted Sakura's luggage through the garage, her cell phone rang. Ino's name flashed across the caller ID.

"Sakura!" Ino shrieked as soon as she accepted the call. "Why didn't you call me? I _have _to tell you about my date with Neji. It was _amazing_."

The kitchens were empty as they passed through, so Sakura engaged her. "Tell me about it," she said, lifting one of her bags away from Hidan who was struggling to carry it all.

"He took me to see the symphony, which, ugh, sounded like it was going to be boring, but it was actually incredible," Ino said. "We got all dressed up, and oh my god, we looked so cute together. He kept touching my hair like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and oh my god, the way he kissed me. Sakura, it was unbelievable."

"I'm very happy for you," Sakura said as she and Hidan entered the elevator. "Are you guys official now?"

"I'm hoping we will be soon," Ino said. "It's our second date, but I can tell that he's pretty serious about me. He's a Hyuuga after all. He's got a duty to have a picture-perfect family." Sakura could practically hear Ino roll her eyes as she said that.

The elevator doors opened and Sakura was surprised to see Madara sitting at the foot of the bed. He was pulling athletic socks on and looked up to smile at Sakura when she walked into the bedroom.

"Yeah, I understand," Sakura said to Ino.

"Okay, but enough about Neji," Ino said. "I need to know who your mystery man is."

"Ino, I can't talk about it right now," Sakura said, moving to sit beside Madara on the bed. "I'm still with him. But I'll call you later."

"No, wait!" Ino yelled. "Just his name!"

Sakura glanced at Madara who undoubtedly heard Ino's voice through the phone. He gave an indifferent shrug and then kissed her forehead. Now that she had agreed to officially be his girlfriend it felt wrong to deny their relationship, even to Ino who would most certainly blast that information all over Konoha. There was no real reason to hide it, but Sakura couldn't help but feel a little unsettled by the idea that it would be public knowledge. It made it more real, gave her more of a reason to stick around and make it work in spite of her hesitations.

"Madara Uchiha," Sakura said quietly into the phone. Next to her, Madara was beaming. She didn't understand why that would make him happy, but it did funny things to her heart.

Ino screamed into the receiver and before she could respond with words, Sakura quickly hung up on her.

"Where's Hashirama?" Sakura asked Madara, unwilling to let the heat in her cheeks faze her.

Madara grabbed her face on either side and pulled her into a kiss. "He's downstairs waiting for me in the gym," he explained once he'd released her. "We're going to play a game of basketball and let off some steam."

Sakura cocked her head to the side. "Let off some steam?"

"Just business things, my darling," he said. "Would you like to join us?"

She couldn't explain to him what she had overheard in the parlor about his family. There was no doubt in her mind that being ousted as CEO was what had caused his sour mood the night before. She was dying to know more information about it, but she realized that Madara must not trust her enough yet. She supposed that was only fair, because she didn't entirely trust him with her heart yet either.

But she was growing confident that that day would come eventually and that all he was requiring of her was patience, just as he had been giving to her.

Sakura tossed one leg over his lap and pulled herself across him. Straddling his hips, she twined her fingers in his hair and kissed him again.

"How long do you think he'll wait?"

Madara gave her an absolutely feral grin, lifted her up by her ass and tossed her onto the bed.

"We won't make him wait too long," he assured her and descended on her like a wolf.

/


	10. Chapter 10

Sakura had no athletic bone in her body; she was an academic at heart and though she liked to stay healthy and fit, sports just weren't her thing. So instead of creating a hazard of herself on the basketball court, she sat on the sidelines and watched Madara and Hashirama play. If there was anything to be learned about their relationship by observing, it was that they were both fiercely competitive. She had never seen anything quite like it.

Madara had tasked her with keeping score, but she had abandoned that long ago. It was too hard to keep up with their constant scoring and it took too much of her brain power. Right now she could only focus on their raw athleticism, the sweat and skin that glistened in the fluorescent lights above. Each of them was so muscular, so skilled and determined. It was a sight to behold.

And their trash talk was endlessly amusing. It reminded Sakura of her playful banter with Ino only this was much more aggressive.

"Scared to lose in front of your girlfriend?" Hashirama teased. They were both panting now and Madara didn't have the breath to respond while he tossed the ball over Hashirama's head and into the net.

They paused for a minute to catch their breath. Madara braced himself on his bent knees and peered over at Sakura. "What's the score, darling?" he asked her.

"Umm." She pretended to look down at her phone as if she'd been keeping score there. "You're winning," she said.

"No, he's not," Hashirama snapped. "It's 82-80, me."

"Hmm, I don't think so," Sakura replied. Madara grinned at her.

"Are you calling my girlfriend a liar?" he asked Hashirama.

"I think I am."

Madara reached for the ball and they were at it again even more fiercely than before. Sakura rolled her eyes, but it did please her to see Madara so in his element. Between her and the game he seemed to have forgotten all about his conversation with Fugaku.

After a few more minutes, Hashirama veered off toward the bench where Sakura was seated. "Okay, okay," he said. "I've had enough. Let's call it a draw."

Madara joined them and sat down next to Sakura while Hashirama downed an entire water bottle. "We both know I won," Madara whispered to Sakura.

"I heard that," Hashirama said dryly. He glanced over to find both Madara and Sakura grinning at him and his scowl morphed into a sheepish smile. His gaze lingered on Madara for a moment and Sakura could tell he wanted to say something to him but he didn't. He glanced down at his watch and let out a low whistle. "I have to get going, but this was fun," he said. "Sakura, it was nice to see you. I look forward to seeing you again, perhaps on a double date?"

Sakura blinked in surprise. From what she overheard, it sounded like he didn't quite approve of their relationship. "Yeah, that sounds wonderful," she agreed.

"Great," he replied. "My wife would absolutely adore you."

She blushed and gave a sidelong glance at Madara. He looked positively radiant beside her, smiling with a contentedness she hadn't expected after such a competitive, testosterone fueled game.

And with company like this, how could she not feel content too?

Once Hashirama had said his goodbyes and left, Madara turned to her with a particular glint in his eye.

"Ever been sailing?" he asked.

/

There was a private bank on the river near Madara's back yard that opened up into the crystal-clear water. Sakura stood on the dock beside him, peering out into the horizon. The sky was still grey, but the rain had let up.

"Are you sure it's safe to be out on the water?" she asked him. The winds whipped around them, curling Sakura's hair around her face and causing her white coverup to billow around her.

Madara walked farther down the marina where the boats were lined up. Sakura hadn't realized that he owned so many boats, and it did alleviate some of her fear. At least he knew what he was doing. She hoped.

"I'm positive, darling," he called to her over the winds. With one hand he beckoned her closer. "I would never put you in any danger."

Sakura followed him and took his hand as he stepped onto a smaller boat. He must have seen the look of trepidation on her because he smiled warmly and pulled her into his chest. "This is good weather for sailing, darling," he explained. "Can't sail without wind."

It felt good to be up against him, so for a moment Sakura said nothing and pressed her cheek against his chest. "But what if it starts storming again?"

"Then we'll come back."

Sakura was not mollified. Madara, sensing her tenseness, tilted her chin up toward his face. He saw something in her features that made him smile, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. "You trust me, don't you, darling?" he asked.

That was a loaded question if she ever heard one. It was hard for her to say no. They were already out here in the marina and Madara had that determined look in his eye. As much as she wanted to please him, she also found pleasure in resisting him when called for.

"I don't know anything about sailing," she said. "What if something happens to you?"

He gave an arrogant scoff. "Nothing will happen to me," he promised. "Or to you. Let me teach you about sailing. There's nothing like being out on the water. It's exhilarating. Please let me take you out there. I promise you'll love it."

She shivered in the breeze and Madara's hands rubbed up and down her arms to warm her.

"Will you punish me if I decline?"

Madara laughed with a deep, rich timbre that made Sakura want to fold herself up inside his chest.

"Sakura, I think you might be a masochist," he said.

She looked up at him with pleading eyes and gave him the most vulnerable fluttering of her lashes. She knew he was weak to her charms, or at least she hoped he was. She didn't like to disappoint him, but the sky was so dark and she was too nervous to go out there on his boat in anything less than sunshine.

"Madara, please," she begged. "Let's come back out here when the weather is nicer. We have weeks to spend together. You can teach me to sail some other time."

He frowned and stared out at the marina over the top of her head. The wind had tousled his inky hair and his cheeks were still red from his vigorous basketball game. Even with the churlish look on his face, he was disconcertingly handsome and Sakura felt the need to quell his dissatisfaction.

But she wasn't going to budge on this one. He was used to always getting his way, but he was going to learn quickly that that was not the way Sakura operated.

She could not quite reach all the way up to kiss him, even on her tiptoes. So instead she kissed his neck and tugged on his shirt to pull him down for me. His hand came to the back of her head and he obligingly bent down to kiss her. He sighed with resignation against her face and then held her face with both hands. "Do you enjoy testing my patience?" he asked her. His red eyes penetrated deep inside her and she could have caved into his desires in that instant had she not feared for both his and her safety.

"A little bit," she conceded, leaning into his touch.

A fat raindrop hit her cheek and both of them glanced up into the sky. Madara let out a short groan of frustration and then wiped the raindrop from her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"Come on," she implored. "We can find something fun to do inside."

"Like what?" he demanded. His eyes were severe but his hands were achingly gentle around her face.

"You can punish me."

This made him crack a smile again, but his eyes still narrowed on her. "I can't punish you for this, darling," he said. "Punishments are for when you disobey me."

"I threw away the omelet you made this morning."

His eyes lit up with something dark and intriguing. "Did you?" he asked dryly. Sakura nodded. "Well, I suppose I must punish you for that."

"By making me another omelet to eat?" she asked, her eyes crinkled in a grin.

She squealed as he lifted her up with striking ease and tossed her onto his shoulder. He gave her ass a pat and stepped off of the boat back onto the dock.

"No, darling," he answered. "By testing the verity of your masochism."

/

Still slung over his shoulders like a sack of flour, Madara marched Sakura right back into the house. It was a rather humiliating position, but something about it excited her. The prospect of being punished was definitely a thrilling one, and though Sakura had never considered that she was a masochist, she was starting to believe she had those tendencies. Or at least she was fantasizing about them. She supposed she was about to find out.

Madara took her through the house, up the stairs, and into the corridor. Instead of heading toward the elevator, he brought her down the hallway near his office.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked. She had never been to the end of this hallway before. "Do you have a sex dungeon?"

"Sort of," he said. "You kind of make me want to get rid of it, but maybe we can make good use of it."

She wriggled a little bit, trying to shift herself so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He held firm for a moment before he relented and allowed her to climb down and wrap her arms around his neck.

"Why do I make you want to get rid of it?" she asked.

"Do we really need to go over that again?"

She fixed him with a stern look, which she could tell he found rather amusing. "I'm not really all that angelic, am I?" she demanded. "I disobeyed. I tested your patience."

"Only because you want me to fuck you," he pointed out.

"Then fuck me!"

"I will, darling," he assured her. They came to the end of the hallway and he opened the door there. Sakura craned her neck to see inside and was surprised to see that it was nothing but an empty room with a bed on one side and a locked chest on the other.

"This is it?" she asked incredulously. "This is your sex dungeon?"

"More like a sex room," he amended. "It's got everything we're going to need."

He set Sakura down on her feet and pointed to the bed. Hesitantly, Sakura glanced up at his face. "This is where you bring those girls who aren't allowed in your bedroom?" she asked.

"Yes."

She stared at the bed, wondering how many women he had punished on it before. Her eagerness to be punished vanished and it was immediately replaced by a deep feeling of inadequacy and shame. She heard Madara fiddling with the lock on the chest behind her and turned to face him.

He opened the chest and pulled out a braided leather belt. Sakura took a step backwards, wrenching her fingers together nervously.

"Sit on the bed, Sakura," he said, turning to face her. He slid the length of the belt along his palm and fixed her with an amused look.

Sakura didn't obey him immediately, suddenly wishing she had just let him take her out on the boat.

"Getting cold feet?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

She strengthened her resolve, although probably not in the way he wanted her to. "You've had other girls in here," she said accusingly.

"Of course," he said.

"How many?"

"Does it matter?" he asked. "Does it make you not want to be in here?"

She gave another glance to the bed, imagining some other girl, some beautiful and willing goddess tied up the way he'd tied her. She probably didn't disobey him. She probably did everything he asked without question. Was that what he expected from Sakura?

"Yeah, kind of," she replied.

"Well, good," he said, "because you really don't belong in here."

Just to spite him, Sakura sat down at the foot of the bed. This seemed to amuse him, too, and he prowled over to her and got down on his knees. His hand slipped beneath her coverup, grazing over the smooth skin of her thigh. Beneath the sheer white fabric she wore a red bikini, having expected to be out on the water. Madara fingered the ties at her hips and pressed his lips to her knee.

"I only want to please you, Sakura," he said, looking up at her through his dark lashes. "Do you want me to spank you? Or do you think that's what _I _want?"

"I…"

He pulled the knot at her hip undone and brushed his fingers along the inner seam of her bikini. With his face he nudged her knees apart and pressed soft kisses to the inside of her thigh. It was hard to think while he was touching her like this, but she couldn't imagine what it would feel like for him to strike her with that belt. She loved his tenderness more than anything, the juxtaposition of his gentle touches to the domineering way he spoke to her. It was difficult not to believe that he loved, or rather _wanted _to love her when he touched her like this. Could she still believe his heartfelt words if he found pleasure in hitting her?

"I hate this room," she finally said. "I don't want to be in here."

Madara leaned away from her, his expression concerned and clouded. "Then let's leave," he said. He stood up and took her hand, but Sakura remained seated on the bed.

"Wait," she said. Patiently, he looked at her. "If I wanted you to hit me with that… would you?"

"I would do whatever you wanted, Sakura," he replied. She found herself relentlessly charmed by the way he spoke her name when he so often replaced it with a certain term of endearment. It made everything more serious, more real.

"But would you enjoy it?"

"I would enjoy pleasing you," he said so earnestly it made Sakura's chest feel tight. "But I get the feeling you don't really want me to spank you."

She looked down at her feet, too ashamed to look up at his face. "You have this room full of toys that suggest you _do _enjoy this sort of thing. What if I don't like it?"

Madara let out a sigh of frustration and bent down to his knees again. "Look at me, darling," he said, taking her hands in his. Obediently, she met his gaze. "I've only ever wanted one thing. Do you remember what it is?"

With a vaguely patronized glare, she clenched her jaw. "To find your center," she answered.

"Yes," he said. "I've so desperately been seeking my own satisfaction that it has led me to some dark, and frankly concerning places. This room only exists as a steep reminder of my own ineptitude. Do you think I need to spank you to be fulfilled?"

Sakura swallowed the dryness in her throat and shook her head.

"You may think I'm being facetious, but nothing is as satisfying to me as making you smile," he said. "Making you come. Making you happy."

She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, her cheeks burning with all kinds of shame and embarrassment. She wanted to believe him, but this was Madara. Billionaire elitist with a sex dungeon.

He tossed the belt into the corner and moved to sit beside her on the bed. "You don't want to be punished," he ventured. "You like me. You genuinely like me. Not because I have money. Not because of my Uchiha name. You _do _think I want to spank you, and that's why you're willing to let me do it even though you don't really want that."

"I just don't want you to miss out on something because of me," she confessed. "I want to be able to… to help you be fulfilled."

"Well, that's incredibly hot, Sakura, darling," he said. "No less wicked woman exists."

She gathered enough courage to glower at him.

"The wicked deserve to be spanked," he said, cracking a grin. "I don't think I would enjoy spanking you at all."

"Even though I didn't eat the omelet?"

"I would certainly have appreciated if you had obeyed me," he admitted, "but you obey me when you want to, and that's enough for me."

"Is it?" she asked dryly.

"You're smart enough to need a good reason to submit to me," he explained. "One day you'll trust me with your entire soul, and until then all I can do is work toward that. Starting with this room. Tomorrow I'll have it emptied out. We can turn it into a library. Or a theatre. Anything you want."

"Anything _I _want?"

"Of course, darling," he said. "It will be yours to do whatever you please with."

Her courage had come back, the sincerity of his words having touched her. "You're giving me a room in your mansion" she asked. "What if we break up?"

"That won't happen," he said confidently. "You'll be my wife someday."

"Ugh, Madara."

"I refuse to settle," he said with a charming smirk. "If can't marry you, then I'll be alone."

"Says the man who always gets what he wants."

"To the woman who will always have whatever she wants," he tossed back. His hand came up to smooth over her wild hair and with the utmost tenderness he stroked her cheek. "I'll earn your trust, and then your love," he said. "So tell me what you want, Sakura, so I can make sure that you have it."

"Right now I want to go back up to your bedroom," she said. "So you can fuck me."

He gave her a mildly shocked and inherently boyish grin and kissed her.

"You are such a good girl."

/

Back in Madara's bedroom, rain pounded furiously against the glass obscuring any view of the world outside. Winds made the building groan and crack. Madara, who stared blankly into the relentless rain, turned back to give her a sheepish look.

"What's it like being right all the time?" he asked her with an eye-crinkling grin.

"It's exhausting," Sakura replied. "Now kiss me, please. I didn't come up here to—"

He cut her off with a kiss and lifted her up into his arms. He was grinning into their kiss, making it very hard for Sakura to deepen it. She contented herself with pressing kisses along his face and neck, nibbling gently at his earlobe and threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. His body was warm and hard, and Sakura felt this overwhelming feeling that she would never tire of him, could never get enough of him.

When she returned to his mouth, desire thrumming in her bones, she found him still smiling and pulled away to look at him.

"Why are you grinning like that?" she demanded.

"I'm just happy."

"Even though we didn't get to go sailing like you wanted?"

"Who cares?" he said with a shrug. "I think I'm finally winning you over."

She pushed her hips against his and kissed the corner of his mouth. "What makes you think you haven't already won me over?"

"You're the kind of woman who will make me work for it."

He kissed her back with languid leisure, humming with pleasure. "I'm not trying to make you work for anything," she insisted. "Didn't we fuck pretty much the second we met each other?"

"It's your heart I'm after," he replied, moving them closer to the bed. Gently, he placed her down on her back and then covered her body with his. He placed his arms on either side of her head and began to kiss her cheek before moving lower to her neck.

"Who would have guessed you were such a romantic?"

"Shh," he murmured, toying with the tie of her bikini top. Her coverup had long since been abandoned by the elevator door. He cupped her breast over the fabric and gave a tentative squeeze. Sakura arched her back, her body already flooded with heat.

Her phone, which sat on top of her suitcase, began to buzz. Madara paused to look up at it, but Sakura's hands found their way to the back of his head and held her against him. "Don't stop," she pleaded.

But he did stop. He reached over to grab her phone and held the screen up so she could see. Neji's name lit up the screen.

"Do you need to get this?" he asked dryly.

Confused, Sakura sat up and grabbed her phone from his hands. She had no idea why Neji would be calling her. Hesitantly, she looked up at Madara. There was no doubt in her mind that he had a propensity for jealousy, but she wasn't going to let him control her. He had no reason not to trust her.

So she answered it.

"Hello?"

"Oh my god, Sakura," Ino's voice shouted from the other end. Sakura winced and put it on speakerphone. "Thank god you answered. I need you to come pick me up."

"Where are you?" Sakura asked, giving Madara another glance to gauge his expression. He looked calmly neutral.

"Neji got called in to work for some kind of emergency," Ino explained. "My phone died and he doesn't have time to take me home. We're at farmer's market and it's pouring outside. I really need you to come get me."

"That's almost an hour away from here," Sakura said. "Isn't there someone closer you can call? I don't want you to wait in the rain."

"What are you talking about?" Ino asked. "It's like ten minutes from your house."

"I'm not at my house."

"Oh my god, you're still with Madara?"

Sakura looked up at him again. He had, to her surprise, a rather apologetic look on his face. "I can get us there in half an hour," he said to Sakura. "We can take the Bugatti."

She frowned, not really wanting to leave the house in this weather, especially not when it interrupted sex. But Ino was her friend and Madara was willing to help.

"Alright, Ino, we'll be there soon."

"Thanks, Sakura!"

/

"Madara, slow down!"

The engine revved as he sped the car through the rain, weaving in and out of the traffic on the highway. Sakura's fingers were white knuckled against her leather seat and the only thing that stopped her from squeezing her eyes shut was the intense motion sickness.

"I'm just trying to get us there quickly," Madara said calmly. "So she doesn't have to wait in the rain."

"She should have thought about that before she went to the farmer's market on a rainy day," Sakura seethed.

"With Neji of all people," Madara said, glancing over at her. Seeing the panic on her face he reached over and gave her knee a gentle squeeze. "Does that bother you? Isn't he your ex or something?"

Trying to calm herself down, Sakura sucked in a deep breath and released it. "That was a long time ago," she answered through gritted teeth. "If she's happy with him, then I'm happy too."

"Hmm, I don't believe that," Madara said. "You were just trying to get with him a couple of weeks ago. And she's your best friend."

Sakura gripped her seat harder as Madara took a curved exit at much too high a speed. "How do you know that?" she asked, peering over at him skeptically.

"Our circles overlap," he explained. "I know the Yamanaka family."

She released her vice grip on the seat to cross her arms over her chest. "I'm not bothered," she reiterated.

She could feel him sneaking glances over at her but she refused to take her eyes off of the road.

"Would you be bothered if she came after me?" he asked.

Sakura scowled. "First of all, she didn't go after Neji, he was the one who asked her out," she replied. "Second, yes, I would be furious because you're my boyfriend."

Madara chuckled, obviously amused by her discomfort. "I meant after we break up."

An indignant scoff escaped her and she ripped her eyes from the road to glare at him.

"I'm kidding, darling."

"It's not even been a full day," she said tersely. "Maybe wait until we've established a solid foundation before you crack jokes like that."

"I have faith in us," he said. "We're really going to be something, you know."

"I'm starting to believe that."

"Really?" he asked. He was beaming at her in a way that made her want to knock him down a peg, but she also delighted in his happiness. He was a man who had the whole world, and all he really wanted was to find his center.

She couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Really."

/

They pulled up alongside the market stalls of the farmer's market where Ino stood shivering beneath the billowing pitch of a tent. She was alone among the baskets of potatoes and leeks, her arms wrapped around herself in a weak attempt to stay warm.

Sakura threw the car door open. "Ino, get in!" she yelled over the din of the rain.

Ino took a blinking look of astonishment at the flashy car before she noticed that there was no backseat for her to slide into.

"My lap," Sakura said apologetically. It hadn't occurred to her until then that there would be no room for Ino, but it was too late to do anything about that now.

So begrudgingly, Ino climbed into Sakura's lap.

"Not what I expected," Ino said after the door had been shut and Madara was pulling back through the parking lot.

Sakura winced while Ino fidgeted in her lap, feeling the dampness of Ino's skirt seep into her legs. Ino squealed when Madara peeled out of the parking lot and back onto the road. Sakura could tell that something abrasive was about to come out of her mouth, but Madara's voice stopped her.

"Aww, look how cute you two are," he said teasingly.

"Madara," Ino said dryly. "Good to meet you."

"Mr. Uchiha," he corrected. "Good to meet you, too."

"If you're dating my best friend I get to call you by your first name."

Madara gave her a look of disapproval but didn't press the issue. "Fair enough," he said. "If you'd be so kind as to give me directions to your house?"

"Cherry street," she replied. "Behind Sakura's neighborhood."

Madara grunted his acknowledgement and Sakura felt an uncomfortable twisting in her gut. It was strange to feel her worlds colliding like this. Ino and Madara were completely different and she couldn't imagine that Ino would tolerate his bossiness.

"Ino, what happened with Neji?" Sakura asked. "Surely he wouldn't leave you all alone out in the rain."

She felt Ino tense up. "I don't know," she said. "Things were going really well. I mean it was raining, but we were having a nice time. Then he got a phone call and he became a completely different person. He was really upset. He said he had to go immediately, that it was urgent."

"At least he let you use his phone before he left," Sakura offered, giving her a pat on the shoulder.

"He shouldn't have left you there," Madara said. Sakura spared a glance in his direction to find that he was glowering.

"Something has really upset him," Ino said defensively. "He's a perfect gentleman most of the time."

"And he wouldn't tell you what upset him?" Madara demanded.

"He just said it was about work."

"What a jackass."

Sakura scoffed. "Oh, like you're one to talk."

Madara gaze flitted between her and the road. He had the decency to look sheepish, but there was still a determined set to his jaw. "Sakura, darling, I wouldn't abandon you in the rain with no way home for any reason."

"I'm sure Neji had a good reason," Sakura said to Ino to console her. She tossed a nasty glare in Madara's direction. Surely he could set aside his personal hatred for Neji until Ino was out of the car.

It seemed that Madara came to his senses in that moment and sent an apologetic look toward Ino. "I'm sorry," he said. "It just got me worked up to see you out in the rain like that. I'm sure Neji had a good reason, Ino."

"It's Miss Yamanaka to you."

/


	11. Chapter 11

Once Ino had been safely dropped off at her house and Sakura was alone in the car with Madara, she turned to him and gave him a determined stare.

"Why do you hate Neji so much?" she asked.

"I don't hate Neji," he said calmly, his hands gliding along the steering wheel as he veered back onto the highway.

"Well, it seems an awful lot like you do."

He gave her a rather patronizing look. "Should I be fond of him?" he asked. "He's from a rival family, he rejected you – the most spectacular woman on earth, and he left your friend out in the rain without a ride home."

"He might have had a good reason."

"Why are you defending him?" Madara asked. "Do you still think you and Neji could be something?"

Sakura groaned with frustration and leaned against the window as far away from Madara as possible. "Your jealousy is really annoying," she snapped. "You know there's not anything going on between me and Neji. He's dating my best friend."

"Oh, I know," Madara said. "There is no doubt in my mind that you'll be faithful to me. I'm not concerned about Neji."

"Then why did you say those things in front of Ino?" Sakura asked.

"Because she deserves better than that," he explained. "How would you feel if I dropped you off here on the side of the road and left because I had _urgent business_?"

Sakura crossed her arms over her chest petulantly. "Well if I'm going to be your wife one day then there will undoubtedly come a time when you have to sacrifice time with me for the sake of _urgent business_."

Madara expression shifted suddenly and near violently to a scowl. "Maybe I'll retire," he muttered darkly. "We'll move to some small town elsewhere and I'll never have to leave your side."

Curious about his fluctuating mood, Sakura leaned a little closer. "You'd abandon the family business?" she asked, trying to be soft and neutral.

"I don't want to talk about that, darling."

She scoffed with irritation, not mollified by the term of endearment. "You're just like Neji."

Madara gritted his teeth and gripped the steering wheel tighter. "You want to know about the family business?" he asked her, frustration evident in his tone. "Well come soon I may not be a part of it anymore. Fugaku's branch wants to take over my shares of the company."

This wasn't anything she didn't already know, but she was surprised that he would share it with her now.

"Why?" she asked.

Madara sighed and reached over for Sakura's hand. She allowed him to thread their fingers together even though something about the air in the car was making her nervous. He grasped her hand so tightly it began to hurt, but she didn't pull away.

The silence was terse, punctuated by the roar of the road, the gentle lilt of the rain. When she didn't think he would speak, she brushed her thumb tenderly over his hand.

"Madara, what are you going to do?"

He relaxed his hand and returned the affection with a stroke of his own thumb. "It's going to be okay, Sakura," he said, though she had a feeling he was reassuring himself. "I'm not going to let that happen."

Sakura frowned, staring down at their entwined fingers. "Do you remember when you asked me if you fit in with the Uchihas?" she asked.

He spared her an inquisitive glance. "Yes."

"Is that why you asked?"

He let out another sigh and Sakura moved her other hand to cover his so she held it wrapped in both her hands. She brought it to her mouth and kissed his palm – something to ease the discomfort she knew he must feel. That had been an incredibly vulnerable moment from him, and her heart broke for him. He could lose everything.

"For what it's worth," she began when she realized he wouldn't respond, "I don't think you're like them. You're a respectable man."

"No, Sakura, that's the problem," he replied. "I'm _not _a respectable man. I'm a philanderer and a crook. I stepped on many people to get where I am. The Uchiha reputation is tarnished because of me."

"That's why they've turned against you?" she asked. She could very well believe that Madara Uchiha was corrupt, but that reputation exceeded him as a man and extended to his entire family. She _couldn't _believe that he was the only one.

Again he said nothing, but Sakura kept pressing.

"That's why you like me, isn't it?" she asked. "That's why you've been so adamant about me. You think I'll make you a more respectable man."

Silently he pulled them up the driveway to the Uchiha manor. He refused to look at her. "I like you, Sakura," he said quietly. "You _have _made me a more respectable man, though probably not in the way you're thinking."

"How then?"

He parked outside the front door instead of in the garage and let the rain beat against the roof of the car. He turned to face Sakura and gave her a pleading look. "In all my years of pursuing pleasure, I never considered what it might feel like to want someone else's too. I don't mean sexually. I mean your happiness, and now my family's too," he said. "I'm selfish. I'm a hedonist. But I'd give up my company, my home, my wealth, all of it, to have a life like Hashirami's. To have the respect that he does, to have a wife that adores me and a family that loves me."

"You don't have to choose, Madara," Sakura said gently. "You can have everything. Show your family that you are respectable."

Madara gave her a look a deep dread and shame. It made Sakura's heart tense up in her chest.

"Can I confess something to you, Sakura?"

She wasn't sure that she wanted to hear his confession, but she nodded anyway.

"I decided that the first step to becoming a respectable man was finding a respectable wife," he explained. "I saw you in the paper and I thought you'd be a perfect fit. A doctor, and a prestigious one at that. And you were so beautiful in that picture. I thought with a woman like you on my arm, I would revive my family's faith in me."

Sakura swallowed and felt her body go cold. Had their whole relationship been nothing but a ruse to save his shares in the family company?

"But I screwed that up," Madara continued. "Fugaku had a plan to marry you to Sasuke in order to ensure that your research would shed no negative light on the Uchihas. It seemed like a good idea, but… I was jealous. Why should Sasuke have you? It should have made no difference whether it was me or Sasuke, and Sasuke didn't even want you. He complained about how annoying you were."

Sakura could feel her chest tightening and her breath growing heavy. Those words about Sasuke stung, even years after her crush had ended. And Madara… He had seduced her for his own gain.

"That night at the gala, I wanted to seduce you," Madara said, even though Sakura's ears were roaring and she could hardly listen anymore. "I wanted my family to know that _I _was the right man for this job."

"Madara, stop," Sakura whispered. "Please."

"No, darling, listen," he said, reaching for her hands again. She snatched them out of her reach. "Please, listen," he begged. "I know it was wrong of me. I know I had no business trying to seduce you like that, and I wasn't even successful."

Sakura scoffed. If that were true, then why was she here in his car right now, staying in his house, his _bed_?

"At the gala I didn't know what to make of you," he said. "I treated you like any of the other whores I'd have in my house and that was my first mistake. I feel like I took advantage of you, and I'm sorry."

Her vision was beginning to blur with tears, but she tried her damnedest to keep them from falling.

"Darling, don't cry."

"Stop calling me that," she snapped. "Can you just take me home, please?"

"But, Sakura—"

"This whole time you've just been using me," she hissed. "All those pretty words were just to secure my allegiance to you so you could have the respectable wife. You didn't mean any of it, did you?"

"I meant _all _of it, Sakura," he insisted. "That's why I'm telling you the truth now. We can't move forward as a couple if I'm keeping secrets from you, so I'm putting it all out there."

"We are _not _a couple," she seethed. Her hands trembling with rage and hurt, she flung herself out of the car and into the rain. She would walk home – there was no way she could stay in the car with him any longer.

She stomped her way down the driveway, realizing she'd never be able to walk all the way him in the rain, especially now that the sky was growing dark. Once she was out of sight she would call Naruto, who was a far more respectable man than Madara could ever be.

"Sakura, wait," Madara yelled. She heard the car door slam shut but she didn't bother to turn around. "At least let me take you home."

She kept walking.

"I'm not letting you walk home from here," he called after her. She could hear him jogging up beside her. "It's not safe."

"Oh, like you care," she muttered.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and forcibly turned her to face him. She tried to jerk herself out of his hold, but he wouldn't relent.

"I do," he said. "I do care. I love you, and I mean that."

She glanced up at him, her cheeks wet with tears and raindrops. She could see a veritable chink in his armor that he couldn't fake. He was truly miserable in this moment and it made a loud sob burble up in her throat.

"No, you don't," she insisted. "You love the idea of a perfect wife. You don't know me well enough to love me. We've known each other less than a month. You are just jealous of Mayor Senju. You can't manipulate me into loving you. Do you really think that's what he did to earn Mito's love?"

"How then?" he asked. "How can I earn it?"

Bitterly, she shrugged out of his hold and kept walking. "Leave me alone," she said.

"I'm still not letting you walk home from here," he said. "I'll have Hidan take you."

"I don't want your help."

"Sakura, please."

Only the sheer unadulterated desperation in his voice made her stop to look at him. He was so unfairly handsome, even drenched in rain and nearly in tears. She tried to harden her heart against him, but she couldn't deny her instinct to smooth his ruffled feathers. Instead, she clenched her fists at her side, willing herself not to reach up and touch his cheek.

"Was it so wrong of me to see you as a perfect wife?" he asked. "To want you to be mine?"

"Was it wrong of me to think you actually liked me?" she demanded. "If you want a respectable a woman, go marry that Hyuuga girl. I hear she's looking for a husband."

"I don't want her. I want you."

This only made Sakura cry harder. She stopped walking and put her hands over her face, hating that she couldn't stop herself from crying. How could she have been so foolish? She thought she'd done a good job of keeping her guard up.

"Please don't cry, darling," he said, pulling her against his wet chest. She didn't resist, mostly because his body heat offered reprieve from the chill of the rain. "Come inside. Let me make you some tea. I'll draw you a warm bath. Please let me prove to you that I meant everything I said."

"How could I have been so stupid?" she whispered to herself, certain that Madara couldn't hear her over the rain.

A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a loud roar of thunder. His offer was growing more tempting, and she hated to admit to herself that all she wanted was to curl up beside him and cry, to soak up the comfort her was offering her.

"Alright," she conceded. "Let's go inside."

/

The lights were dim in Madara's kitchen. A kettle warmed on the stove while Sakura and Madara sat across from one another in the breakfast nook, Sakura wrapped in a thick terry cloth robe. Madara had changed into a fresh shirt and sweatpants. It did nothing to detract from his handsomeness, which irritated Sakura to no end.

"Are you cold?" he asked her, his voice impossibly tender. She could tell that he was genuinely apologetic, but she had also believed that he genuinely liked her up until this point. Now she wasn't quite sure what to make of him.

"No."

"I can get you a blanket or—"

"Can you just explain something to me?" she interrupted. "All that shit about you wanting to find your center. Did you mean any of that? Or was that just some tactic to make me want to fix you?"

Madara let out an amused and almost relieved chuckle. "That made you want to fix me, huh?" he asked.

The kettle began to whistle from the stovetop and Madara stood up to retrieve it. Sakura watched him pour the boiling water into two mugs, wondering if a simple cup of tea was the only culinary feat he could manage.

"Sakura, all of my efforts with you have been earnest," he explained, carrying the two mugs to the table. "Yes, you were strategically, and a little bit spitefully chosen, but that doesn't mean I didn't have good intentions. I want a genuine connection with you. I want you to be happy. Over the past couple of weeks I've learned the difference between seeking pleasure for its own sake and knowing what it feels like to be with someone kind and smart and strong. You aren't just some pawn in my game."

He slid one mug over to her and she held it cupped in her hands. "You'll have no say in my research," she said tersely. "I won't be manipulated by your or anyone else."

"I have no interest in manipulating your research," he said. "And that's one point of contention between me and my family. It's better for us in the long run to accept whatever your results are and move forward from there. Our reputation isn't as important as our health."

Sakura fiddled with the teabag, unsure of what to say. Though she felt used, it wasn't as though she didn't understand Madara's plight. But she couldn't allow herself to be tricked again. She would help Madara on her own terms, not his.

"What is it that you want from me?" she asked. "You just need a trophy wife?"

He gave her a disapproving frown. "The better question is what do you want from me," he said. "How can I prove my sincerity to you?"

"Well, first of all you have to stop all this nonsense about me being your wife," she replied. "We are nowhere near ready for marriage talk. The more you push that narrative, the less I trust you."

"Alright," Madara said, though she could tell he didn't like that very much. "I'm lucky enough just to have you as my girlfriend, I suppose."

Sakura looked down into her tea.

"You are still my girlfriend, aren't you?"

She let out a frustrated laugh and looked up into his striking eyes. "I don't know," she said. "I agreed to that when I thought I could trust you."

Now he was getting frustrated, his jaw clenched, his knuckles white around his mug of tea. For a man so used to always getting his way, he did seem to be showing a good amount of restraint.

"You think I did this to win the favor of my family back," he said. "That's only partially true. I'm not willing to give up the happiness I've felt in our brief time together. I'll forfeit my shares in the company. I have more than enough to retire. I could still give you the life you deserve."

Sakura blinked in surprise. "You can't do that," she stammered.

"Why can't I?" he asked. "It would make everyone happy. Most importantly, you. Right?"

She sighed, slightly mesmerized by his eyes in that moment. They looked particularly eerie in the dim light, so rich and hypnotic. Would that really make her happy?

"Madara, I can't ask you to do that," she said. "You can't give up that much just for me. You're in the honeymoon stage. You could hate me a year from now. I don't want you to do something you'll regret."

"I will never hate you, Sakura," he said firmly, "and I won't regret anything that brings me closer to you."

She could not help but roll her eyes at that. His intensity was alarming, especially now after learning about his ruse. Would he really be willing to give up his claim on the Uchiha company? Was he really so desperate for her affection?

"Let's put a pin in that idea for now," Sakura said. "You're being kind of ridiculous."

"It's not so ridiculous," he offered with a tentative grin. "You make enough money to support us both. I could stay home with our kids."

"What did I just tell you about marriage talk?"

Madara laughed. "Forgive me for fantasizing, darling," he said.

With a heavy sigh, Sakura moved around the table to sit beside him. She leaned against his side, so he lifted his arm to accommodate her. She could hear his heart thumping wildly in his chest as she rested her head in the crook of his arm. "Madara," she said. "I do really like you, and I believe that you like me too. Can we just take things slow from now on?"

"As slow as you want, darling."

/

For the next few weeks, Sakura stayed at the Uchiha manor, her guard even higher than before. She couldn't shake the idea that Madara was only using her to gain his family's favor, to keep the company under his own control. Part of her wanted to ask him to give up his shares in the company like he had offered, just to see if he actually meant it.

But another part of her was enjoying his attention, even if it all was just a ruse. Madara took her to fancy restaurants, bought her expensive trinkets everywhere they went. He was constantly brushing her hair away from her face, leaving gentle caresses on her skin, kissing her with the utmost tenderness.

His affinity to shower her with affectionate words and high praise made her feel lighter than air, rich in all the ways that money could never buy. He treated her like she was a queen, but a fragile one. He was always checking to see if she was okay, too hot or too cold, had she had enough to eat? Did she want a massage, would she like to talk a walk in the gardens?

Even if he was faking all of it, Sakura would never deny how nice it felt. Would it hurt when all this romance and care blew up in her face? Undoubtedly. But was she willing to risk it? For now, yes. There was no better way to spend her vacation. She could come back down to earth when she had her work to distract her.

"How about a bath, darling?" Madara asked. It was late evening, and the last day of her vacation. Tomorrow she would return to work, so now was the time to soak up everything he had to offer.

"Together?" she asked. They were sitting in his parlor, this time each with a drink. Apparently Madara no longer worried that inebriation was required for her affection. She took a long swig of wine, waiting for his reply.

"It would be more fun that way, wouldn't it?" he asked with a grin.

Sakura looked over at him, happy in spite of her current predicament. She couldn't be sure this happiness would last, so what harm was there in letting herself enjoy it? She reached over and caught a lock of his long hair and gave it a gentle tug.

"You know what?" she said. "I'd love to wash your hair. A bath does sound nice."

"Wash my hair?" he asked.

She crawled closer to him and hummed, combing through his hair with her fingers. "It's so pretty and thick," she said. "Let me wash it for you."

Madara gave her a perplexed look, but then he set his drink down on the coffee table and kissed her. "Anything you want, darling."

/

Madara's bathtub was more like a small swimming pool. Sakura sank down into the steaming water, displacing the pink bubbles that were fizzling and popping around her. The scent of lavender and vanilla warmed her and sighed as she pulled her hair up into a high bun to keep it out of the water.

She could hear Madara moving around in the bedroom and a moment later he entered the bathroom completely nude. His confidence was admirable, even to Sakura who wasn't necessarily ashamed of her body. He stepped into the bathtub and seating himself between Sakura's legs, his back pressed against her chest.

"No one has ever washed my hair before," he said, pulling it away from the nape of his neck.

Sakura took it in her hands, admiring the silky tresses.

"Not even at the salon?" she asked.

"You can probably tell by the length that I don't get to the salon very often," he replied.

"Pardon me if this is rude," she said, "but I'd think a man of your arrogance would go often."

Madara scoffed. "I wouldn't trust someone anywhere near my neck or face with a pair of shears."

"Not even me?"

He sunk lower into the tub so he could rest his head on her shoulder. "Hmm, I don't think you'd kill me, but dying at your mercy doesn't seem like such a bad way to go."

"I'll keep that in mind," she teased.

They were silent for a moment, soaking in the warmth of the water, the ambient flickering of candles that Madara had lit. Gentle, Sakura began to wet his hair, detangling it with her fingers.

"Sakura?"

"Yes, darling?"

He gave an amused huff and reached for her thighs so he could wrap her legs around his waist. Sakura obliged, feeling a suffocating contentedness with his weight on her.

"Are you happy?" he asked. "Am I making you happy?"

Her fingers faltered in his hair, sensing the urgency in his tone.

"I've never been so happy," she confessed. "Usually I'd be eager to get back to work by now, but I'm actually dreading it. I'll miss seeing you every day."

"We can still see each other every day," he offered.

Sakura shook her head ruefully. "I work long hours, Madara," she said. She reached for a bottle of shampoo and squeezed some into her palm.

"And you're happy doing that?" he pressed.

"Of course," she answered as she began to lather his hair. Madara let out a satisfied groan as she massaged his scalp.

"Well, my main concern is your happiness."

"Is it?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," he said. "I feel terrible about… everything. My life's goal will be to never make you cry again."

It was the first time he'd mentioned their tiff in weeks. He'd been understandably avoiding the subject, though it was clear to Sakura that it was regularly on his mind, something he felt like he needed to make up to her.

"Do you really believe in love at first sight?" she asked him.

"Definitely," he answered without missing a beat. "The moment I saw you I knew you were exactly what I needed."

Sakura scoffed because he had made it clear that what he had needed was a wife that would appease his family, and any number of women could have filled that role.

"I had the utmost confidence in myself to be able to make you fall in love with me," Madara confessed. Sakura made an indignant sound. "What I hadn't accounted for was how quickly I'd fall for you."

"That sounds like a line," Sakura said dryly. "Besides, I'm not in love with you."

"Yet, darling."

She returned her focus to washing his hair. He was always a little too intense for her.

"Are you really willing to give up your shares in the company for me?" she asked after a minute of silence had passed.

He didn't answer right away and Sakura felt her heart clench in her chest.

"Yes," he finally said. "Not just for you, though, darling. For Fugaku and his sons, too. They may be a pain in my ass, but they are family. Itachi, in particular I think will be a great CEO. He's wise and reserved. If I'm being honest, I think he could do a much better job than me."

Sakura was shocked to hear him acquiesce so easily. He seemed rather ruffled whenever Fugaku was mentioned.

"If that's how you feel, then why haven't you already handed over your shares?" she asked.

Madara sighed, but Sakura was unable to tell if it was from frustration or content. "Because it was all I had," he explained. He tilted his head and kissed a spot low on her neck. "But now I have you."

Sakura's heart constricted again, and perhaps she was just lovestruck and stupid, but she was beginning to see that Madara was soft and genuine. She believed him when he said he wanted her to be happy, to provide for her and protect her. Just because it seemed like he had everything he could ever want didn't mean that he actually did.

"What do you think I should do, Sakura?" he asked. "Should I wash my hands of the Uchiha company?"

"I think you should consider what would make you happy," she said, "instead of worrying about how to please others. Do you even like being a part of the family business?"

Another beat of silence stretched across the bathroom. "No," he replied. "I like having nice things. I like being able to spoil people."

"That's what makes you happy?"

He hummed. "That, and sailing. Fishing. Being out on the water. And you, of course."

"Well then fuck the Uchiha company," Sakura said. "Sell your shares and buy yourself a fishing boat. Spend the rest of your life doing what you love instead of wasting all that mental energy on your family."

"I like the way you think, darling."

"So that does mean you're going to do it?" she asked.

The tension in his body seemed to be gone, either from the freeing nature of their conversation or the gentle way Sakura was worked her fingertips against his scalp.

"I'll have to talk it over with my brother first," he said, "but that's definitely the choice I'm leaning towards. If I liquidate my shares and invest somewhere else, I may even be better off financially. It will give me more time to spend with you, anyway."

"You could teach me how to sail," Sakura suggested.

"Yes, and I'll buy you your own sloop," he said. She could hear the grin in his voice. "We'll call it The Cherry Blossom."

"Or maybe I'll buy you a new boat," she said.

"You don't need to buy me things, darling."

Sakura gave him a teasing flick on the ear. "You don't need to buy me things, either. Can't you just let me spoil you for once?"

Madara rolled over onto his stomach, splashing water over the side of the tub. Sakura squealed while he situated himself more comfortably between her legs. He was grinning at her in a way that made her heart flutter.

"You do spoil me, darling."

He came up to his knees, dragging Sakura up with him. Then he kissed her, pouring every ounce of the relief he felt into it. There was something wild about him now, something carefree and uninhibited. He couldn't stop smiling, and his smiles charmed her far more than any of his romantic promises or spoiling words did.

"I wish you didn't have to go back to work tomorrow," he said.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"I can't imagine I could be any fonder of you."

Sakura smiled, which made Madara smile, too. "Alright," she said, turning his shoulders to sit him back down in the tub. "Let me finish washing your hair."

"Yes, darling."

/

AN: I just wanted to thank you guys for the sweet reviews you all leave. I take every bit of criticism to heart and try to implement it as best I can. I hope y'all are staying safe out there.


	12. Chapter 12

Sakura reclined back in her office chair and gave a long sigh. It felt good to be back in the office again, even though she had a daunting amount of work to do. She expected Hashirama to arrive any minute to provide his DNA sample. She still had a lot of catching up to do, as well as planning out her research. It was going to be a long day, but after such a long vacation it was welcome.

The light on her phone blinked red and Shizune's voice rang over the intercom. "Sakura? The mayor is here to see you."

"Send him in," Sakura said.

Hashirama walked into her office, dressed once again in a perfectly pressed suit. He was also wearing a warm smile, his eyes sparkling as he reached across the desk to shake Sakura's hand.

"Good morning, doctor," he said. "First day back after vacation, huh? That must be a drag."

Sakura returned his smile and shook her head. "Oh, no, Mayor Senju," she said. "I'm actually eager to be back. I'm the kind of person who needs to be productive, you know."

"I understand completely," he replied. "So how does this whole process work? Will you need a hair follicle? A swab of my cheek?"

"Both, actually," Sakura said. "As well as a blood sample. I'm going to be exceptionally thorough. Leave no stone unturned."

"I'm not eager to have my blood drawn, but I suppose I'm in good hands."

Sakura gave him another reassuring smile and gathered the necessary supplies. Hashirama took a seat and a flash of uncertainty flitted over his face.

"It's just a little prick," Sakura said. "Nothing to be afraid of."

He glanced up and met her gaze. "Oh, it's not that," he said. But then he looked away, offering no other explanation.

"Is everything alright?" she pressed.

Hashirama glanced out the window, his gaze passing over the morning sun and the light it cast over the courtyard below. "You tell me," he said. "Is everything going okay with Madara?"

Sakura felt an icy fist clench around her heart, but she steeled her expression. She wasn't sure what he was talking about, but things pertaining to Madara did make her nervous. She was sure Madara wouldn't like the two of them to be discussing him behind his back, and she didn't believe Hashirama would bring him up like this if it wasn't serious.

"Everything is fine," she said. "Why do you ask?"

She pulled a cotton swap from a jar near her desk and gestured for Hashirama to open his mouth. He obliged, and she felt her cheeks warm up as she swapped the inside of his cheek and sealed it inside a plastic bag.

He swallowed, watching her hands with rapt attention though he seemed largely unbothered by the process. "He called me this morning to ask for my advice," Hashirama said. "He wanted to know how to go about discussing selling his shares of the company with his brother."

"Oh," Sakura said, trying to remain neutral. "Were you able to help him?"

"Not exactly," he replied. "It just seemed a little out of left field for him. He's been fighting with his family for a long time to keep his position as CEO. I just wonder where his change of heart came from."

Sakura gestured for him to remove his suit jacket, and he complied, folding it neatly over the back of the chair.

"You didn't ask him?" she asked as she pulled his sleeve up over his elbow.

"He gave me a vague answer."

Sakura turned his wrist over so she could see the inner part of his elbow and prepped the syringe for injection. "You know he's jealous of you," Sakura pointed out. "Being the CEO causes him a lot of stress and interferes with his personal life. Perhaps it's for the best that he gives up the position and sells his shares. He can have a life more like yours."

Hashirama laughed. "You think my life isn't stressful?" he said. "I'm the mayor!"

Sakura glared at him as she punctured his skin with the needle. To his credit, he didn't wince.

"That's not what I mean," Sakura said. "You know about his… perversions."

Hashirama had the decency to blush. "He's not a pervert," he stammered.

"No, I know that," Sakura said quickly, feeling a blush on her own cheeks, too. "I mean he's trying to turn himself around. To be respectable. He wants to be more like you."

Deep in Sakura's gut, she knew she shouldn't be saying these things to Hashirama. But how could she not trust him? She knew that both of them had Madara's best interest at heart. If Hashirama had cause for concern, then so did Sakura.

He was silent as she filled the syringe with his blood. When she was finished, she removed it and put a bandage over his punctured skin.

"Are you worried about him?" Sakura asked.

"I always worry about him," he said with a quiet chuckle. He let out a sigh and glanced up from his arm to Sakura's face. He had such expressive concern in his eyes, which were warm and kind, deep set into his handsome face. She could easily see how a girl could fall in love with a man like him, how someone even as rough-edged as Madara could find solace in his friendship.

"What do you make of his decision, Sakura?" he asked her. "Do you think he's doing the right thing?"

She wasn't sure she wanted to admit her particular involvement in Madara's decision, especially since she couldn't do so without revealing an intimate detail of her relationship with him. That wound was still kind of fresh, even though Sakura wholly believed that Madara's attraction to her was genuine, if not innocent.

"I just want him to be happy," Sakura said. "I know how much stress the family business causes him and I think it might be good for him to wash his hands of it and focus on the things that bring him joy instead."

Hashirama regarded her with a skeptical, though not unfriendly look. "Family means everything to him," he countered.

Sakura nodded in agreement. "I think that's why he'd be willing to give everything up to make them happy."

He gave her a look of acquiescence, though Sakura could tell he didn't quite believe her. "What are you doing tomorrow night, Sakura?" he asked, shifting the discussion. She blinked in surprise at the unexpected question. "Mito has been bugging me about meeting Madara's new girlfriend," he explained. "Would the two of you like to join us for dinner?"

"Oh," she stammered. "Well, that sounds lovely. Let me talk it over with Madara and I'll get back to you."

"Wonderful," he said with another disarming smile. "Are we finished up here?"

She nodded and he rose up to his feet, pulling his suit jacket up into his arms. She watched him push his arms through the sleeves and straighten the lapel, wondering if his intentions were as pure as they seemed.

"I look forward to hearing from you," he said, reaching out to shake her hand. "Both about your research and dinner."

"I'll get back to you as soon as possible," she assured him.

/

On her way home that night, after a long day in the lab, Sakura's phone rang. She wasn't surprised to see Madara's name flash on the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Sakura, darling," said the smooth, rich timbre of Madara's voice. "How was your first day back at work?"

"Busy," she replied, glancing at the digital clock on her car's dashboard. It was nearly nine. "I'm just now heading home."

"You shouldn't work so hard, darling," he teased. "You have to save some energy for me."

"Sorry, honey, I've got no energy to spare today," she said. "I'm going home and straight to bed."

She heard him hum lowly on the other end of the phone and wondered if it was from disapproval. "I like when you call me that," he murmured. She could hear a trickle of liquid being poured into a glass and imagined him standing at the bar in his parlor.

"Did you speak to your brother today?" she asked.

"Not yet," he replied. "I'm afraid he isn't going to be very pleased."

"He has shares in the company, too, right?" she pressed. "It's not like he'll have to give his up."

"The shares will be the least of his concerns," Madara explained. "The CEO position is my birthright, and if I should concede it then it would fall to him next. However, Izuna isn't the type that takes well to this kind of work. But he's headstrong and proud, and he will want to claim it anyway. That is, if he can't convince me to keep the position."

Sakura pulled her car into the driveway and shut off the engine. She sat still for a moment, enjoying the reprieve from her busy day. It was nice to hear Madara's voice. She could already picture the normalcy of their future relationship. Would he call her after work every evening? Would they have frequent dinner dates with Hashirama and Mito?

"I'd like to meet your brother properly," Sakura said to him. "I only saw him briefly that night at the gala and we didn't even speak."

"Nothing would make me happier, darling," he said. "Just let me talk to him about the family business first. He might need some time to soak it in."

It occurred to Sakura then that Izuna might feel the same as Hashirama – that Sakura was the reason Madara was doing this, that she had somehow manipulated him. She couldn't deny that it would appear that way, and to some extent it was true. For Hashirama, who only cared for Madara's happiness, it probably didn't matter that much.

But would Izuna resent her for it?

"I spoke with Hashirama today," Sakura said, switching topics. "He invited us to dinner with him and Mito tomorrow night."

"Yes, he texted me after he left your office this morning," Madara replied. "He complained endlessly about getting his blood drawn. Said his arm was sore."

"Some people don't handle needles that well," she said consolingly. "So are we going to dinner, then?"

"If you want to, darling. I'm sure Mito would love to finally meet you."

"I'd love to," she said, stifling a yawn. She finally mustered the energy to exit her car. "Should I meet you at their house?"

"I'll pick you up, darling."

Now she did yawn as she fumbled with her keys.

"Get some sleep, Sakura," Madara said. She could practically hear his grin. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," she said. "Goodnight, Madara."

"Goodnight, darling."

/

The next day after work, Sakura went straight home to shower. It hadn't been an exceptionally productive day, but she'd spent a lot of time catching up with her coworkers and preparing the next stages of her research.

Truthfully, she was glad that today had been a particularly light day, because dinner had been on her mind the whole time. She was nervous to see the mayor in his own home, and to meet Mito, the woman Madara coveted so much. Sakura wasn't exactly the jealous type, but she did wonder what it was about this woman that had captivated these two very powerful men.

She dressed herself in a conservative but well-fitting suit, pulled her hair into a neat bun, and put on just enough makeup to hide her dark circles. She wanted to make a good impression, and as she stared at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but feel self-conscious.

When the doorbell rang, she plastered a well-intentioned smile on her face and answered it.

"Nice suit, baby," Madara said, eyeing her up and down. He was dressed more casually this time in slacks and dark grey button-down. Of course he never looked anything short of perfection, and what he lacked in dress he made up for in his aristocratic posture and charming smile.

"Baby?" she said, letting her eyes appraise him, too. "What happened to darling?"

He bent down and kissed her cheek. "I like both. Don't you?"

"Call me whatever you like, Mr. Uchiha."

There was an extra pep in his step as he led her back to the car, and as they drove along the quiet country road, Sakura could tell he was in a good mood.

"I missed you," she told him, watching his face to catch his warm smile. It had been nearly two days since she had seen him, and while it was no significant chuck of time (there would inevitably longer stretches where they didn't see each other), it felt like a lot after spending two entire weeks with him.

"I missed you, too darling," he said. "I found it rather hard to sleep without you beside me."

"Well, maybe you should get a smaller bed," she teased. "Of course it feels empty when it's the size of a blimp."

He gave her an endearing smirk. "The size isn't the problem, darling," he said. "I'd sleep better on the floor if you were there with me."

"I can't imagine you sleeping on the floor."

"You don't think I can rough it?" he asked, taking mild offense. "I ought to take you camping with me sometime. I think you'd be surprised."

"Mr. Luxury likes to go camping?" she asked incredulously. "Color me shocked."

"Hashirama and I used to go camping all the time," he explained. "You may not have noticed, but we are very competitive. Camping brings out the worst of our masculinity."

Sakura laughed. "I bet so," she agreed. "I didn't take him for the camping type either."

"We don't go as often since he got married," Madara said wistfully. "Mito isn't keen on camping."

"Do you think she'll like me?" Sakura asked, feeling her nerves budding in her stomach again.

Madara reached for her hand and linked their fingers together. "She will love you," he assured her. "She loves everybody."

For some reason, Sakura didn't find that very reassuring.

/

Sakura had never been to the mayor's house before, and she was surprised when they pulled up into the driveway of a modest ranch style home. The flowers in the yard were well-tended, the grass vibrant and green. There was a wheelbarrow and a pair of gardening clothes near the front porch and a purring white cat sitting on the front step.

The quaintness of it made Sakura feel warm and fuzzy, mitigating her nerves to some degree. Madara put an arm around her shoulder as he knocked on the front door, and she leaned into his chest, feeling calmed by his steadfastness.

Hashirama answered the door, and Sakura grimaced when she saw that he, too, was dressed casually in jeans and a white button-down.

"Madara, Sakura," he said warmly, beckoning them both inside. "Welcome. Please come in."

With one hand on her back, Madara led her inside the house. It was just as quaint on the inside as it was on the outside. Potted plants littered the hardwood floors, pictures of friends and family were hung on the wall in matching frames. Sakura could tell that whoever had decorated had put a lot of thought into the cozy design.

"Mito is making lasagna," Hashirama said, directing them into the large kitchen.

Mito stood at the oven, her hand covered in a mitt and a frilly white apron tied around her waist. Sakura was immediately struck by how pretty she was – an absolute vision of reddish-brown hair and freckles, her skin smooth and pale, her legs long and lithe. She cracked the oven open and peered inside and them promptly shut it again.

When she turned around and saw her new company, she gave them both an adorable grin. "Madara," she said, "lovely to see you again. This must be Sakura."

She removed her oven mitt and crossed the kitchen the shake Sakura's hand. "It's good to finally meet you," she said. "I was beginning to wonder if Madara would ever settle down. I worry about him, you know."

Madara gave her a dry, but amused look. "Kind of you to worry, Mito, darling," he said, "though not at all necessary."

Mito glared right back at him, but Sakura could sense that this was all good-natured teasing.

"Please, come sit," she said, turning her attention back to Sakura. She showed her into the dining room where the table had been set, sprinkled with succulents and candles. "Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes."

Their home had such a calming presence to it that Sakura felt her nervousness dissipating. Madara pulled out her chair for her and then sat down beside her. Hashirama took his seat across from her and then perched his elbows on the table. There was something mischievous about his smile.

"So, how long have you two been together now?" he asked Sakura.

She blinked, a little caught off guard by the question and the playful tone with which it was asked.

"About a month," she answered, seeking Madara's hand beneath the table. When she'd found it, he gave hers a reassuring squeeze.

"Ah, I can hear the wedding bells already," Hashirama said.

"Knock it off, Hashirama," Madara said.

Hashirama seemed unphased. "Mito and I only dated six months before I proposed," he said. "Sometimes you just know right away."

Sakura glanced sheepishly at Madara's face. His expression was unreadable, but she already knew his feelings. She had a suspicion that Hashirama knew, too, and was trying to gauge _her_ feelings.

"How did you and Mito meet?" she asked, shifting to something less damning.

"Our families have known each other a while," Hashirama explained, "but I didn't meet her until she moved to Konoha. We were both enrolled in a junionr political science program. I knew the moment I saw her in that classroom that she was the one for me."

Again Sakura glanced at Madara, whose expression was still carefully neutral.

"The moment you saw her, huh?" Sakura pressed. "And did she feel the same way?"

"Not at all," Mito said, carrying the lasagna into the dining room. Hashirama leaned out of her way so she could set the steaming dish in the center of the table. "I thought he was arrogant and pig-headed."

"And a showoff," Hashirama added with a grin.

"A major showoff," she agreed. "But he's also extremely kind and gentle. And handsome, of course," she added, rubbing his shoulder as she took a seat beside him. "It didn't take long for him to wear me down and get me to go on a date with him."

Sakura smiled. She could see the genuine affection they had for one another, and she understood completely why Madara wanted this for himself. She wanted it, too.

"How about you?" Mito asked, serving up slices of lasagna on ceramic plates. "How did you two meet?"

"We met at my gala," Madara answered, but his voice was tight. Sakura was sure he could recall that night more vividly than she could, and it didn't make a very romantic story.

"I liked him straight away," Sakura offered, hoping it would do something to assuage his guilt, "even though he was a bit, well, brutish."

Hashirama and Mito laughed.

"That sounds like Madara," Mito said with a giggle.

"He just needed to be taught how to treat a respectable woman," Sakura continued.

"He's probably never had to actually work to charm a woman before," Mito said, "when money and a handsome face usually does the trick."

Madara's hand was beginning to sweat. When Mito placed a plate of lasagna in front of him, he attempted to pull his hand away, but Sakura wouldn't let go. She could sense his unease, and even though she was enjoying it to some degree, she wanted to mollify him in some way.

"Madara certainly doesn't lack charm," Sakura said. "For the longest time I thought he was just messing with me. Sometimes he seems too good to be true."

Though she said this earnestly, Hashirama and Mito laughed again. Sakura released his hand so they could both eat, sneaking another glance at his rigid face.

"Madara, you look like you've swallowed a hornet," Hashirama teased.

Madara took a bite of lasagna and said nothing.

"Well?" Mito asked. "How did you feel about Sakura? I imagine you're the one who approached her."

"I did," Madara said. "I saw her from the balcony. I knew who she was and she looked exceptionally beautiful that night. I couldn't take my eyes off her."

"Right, you're a doctor, Sakura," Mito said. "You were in the paper for that eye color study."

"That's right," Sakura said.

"Interesting," Mito said. "Smart women aren't usually Madara's type."

Madara glared at her and Sakura wondered why they were antagonizing him like this. Surely they could see it was bothering him, however light-hearted they intended to be. They'd both known him far longer than Sakura had. If they knew the truth of why Madara had approached her, she highly doubted they'd be speaking like this in front of her.

"I don't have a type," Madara insisted, regaining his composure. "Sakura, am I _your _type?" he asked.

"You're exactly my type," she replied.

"And what exactly would that be?" he asked.

"Rich."

There was more laughter from the Senjus, but neither Sakura nor Madara gave it any attention.

"You don't spend enough of my money for that to be the case," Madara pointed out, "but I do have it on good authority that you're a gold-digger."

"Madara, that's not a nice thing to tease about," Mito said disapprovingly.

Sakura thought he might glare at her again, but he merely tilted his head in her direction. "She was flirting with another man when I first saw her," Madara explained. "Another rich man. She's not lying; that's her type."

Hashirama and Mito both turned their gazes to Sakura, confusion evident on their faces.

"He's teasing," she explained, though she was unsure how she really felt about the comment. He had been the one who disliked the term gold-digger so much. "He's very jealous, you know. I think he couldn't stand seeing me flirt with someone else."

"No," Madara said. "I couldn't stand seeing you strike out."

Sakura scoffed indignantly.

"You left the gala with a much bigger prize," he offered as if that were in any way consoling.

"More of that Uchiha arrogance," Sakura said, rolling her eyes.

"Confidence, darling."

Sakura smiled at him, oddly endeared by the strange banter. She was glad to see him biting back now, even if it was at her.

"Well, you two certainly make an interesting couple," Mito said. Hashirama wore a concerned frown, his brows knit together in deep thought.

"You alright, Hashirama?" Madara asked. He peered at his friend over his glass of water as he took a sip.

A look passed between them, a silent conversation of which Sakura was sure they'd had many. She had no idea what either of them was thinking, but Mito seemed to pick up on it as well.

"I'm fine," Hashirama said, breaking into a grin. "I just think it's wonderful that you two found each other. It's nice to see you so happy, Madara."

Madara's eyes were glinting with something ferocious. "Thank you," he murmured, seeming to mean it but Sakura wasn't quite sure.

"So," Hashirama began. "Have you spoken with your brother yet?"

"Have you spoken with yours?"

The vehemence of Madara's question surprised Sakura, and it seemed to upset Mito.

"Boys, play nice," she said warningly. "Let's not spoil a good dinner."

"I don't control Tobirama," Hashirama said. "You know that."

"You're the mayor," Madara hissed. "You're his older brother. You're telling me you don't have any influence over him at all?"

Hashirama dropped his fork and crossed his arms over his chest. The sudden and violent tension in the air set Sakura's nerves on fire all over again.

"It's all a moot point now, isn't it?" Hashirama said. "You sell your shares in the company and the investigation won't even pertain to you anymore."

"What investigation?" Sakura asked.

Petulantly, Madara dropped his fork and mimicked Hashirama's posture.

"And what if I don't sell my shares?" Madara asked, ignoring Sakura entirely.

"I'm afraid it's out of my hands," Hashirama said. "I want no part in this business between you two. My brother and my best friend. How can you ask me to choose?"

Growing frustrated, Sakura cleared her throat loudly. When neither of the men responded, she glanced to Mito for help. Mito only shrugged and gave an imperceptibly small shake of her head.

"This isn't a feud," Madara insisted. "Tobirama has always had it out for my family. Am I just supposed to sit silently while he dismantles my company?"

Hashirama rolled his eyes, but before he could speak again, Sakura interrupted. "Could someone please explain to me what's going on?" she demanded.

"I'm not going to leave this to be a problem for Izuna," Madara said.

"Take it up with Tobirama," Hashirama said.

A terse silence filled the air. Madara was radiating a negative energy like Sakura had never felt before. His animosity scared her. After of a moment of jaw-clenching and stoic staring from both parties, Madara eventually shoved his chair back away from the table and stood up.

"Come on, Sakura," he said, pulling her gently up out of her chair. "We're leaving."

"But we haven't even had dessert," she protested with her best effort at lightening the mood.

Madara gave her a look of admoshment that made Sakura's blood go cold. He tugged on her arm and obediently, she let him pull her out of the dining room.

"Thanks for a lovely dinner, Mito," Sakura called over her shoulder.

"It was wonderful to meet you!" Mito responded as the front door slammed shut behind them.

/


	13. Chapter 13

"Madara, what the hell was that about?" Sakura demanded.

Fury radiated off of him in waves, but he was still gentle with her as he dragged her back to the car. He didn't even look at her as he backed out of the driveway and peeled back out into the street. Sakura gripped the leather seats, gritting her teeth while he took his frustration out on the road.

"Madara!" she snapped when it became clear he would not answer.

He glanced over at her, his features wrought with anger. They softened when he saw her face. His foot eased off the accelerator and he let out a long sigh.

"Tobirama is the sheriff, as I'm sure you're aware," Madara said with softness that belied his true feelings. "He's investigating the Uchiha company for fraud."

"And will he find it?" Sakura asked, not pacified by his answer.

"Of course he'll find it, Sakura," Madara snapped. "Why do you think I want him to drop the investigation?"

Sakura frowned and stared at the road ahead. "That's not Hashirama's fault," she pointed out. "You have no reason to take it out on him. You ruined a nice evening."

Madara said nothing and Sakura knew he was biting his tongue for her sake.

"What kind of fraud?" Sakura asked.

"Leave it be, Sakura," Madara said lowly. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"It obviously matters if you were willing to pick a fight over it."

"It's my responsibility, Sakura," Madara said tersely. "I can't leave it for whoever the next CEO is, especially not if it's Izuna."

"Then make sure it's Fugaku," Sakura said. "Let him handle it. You don't like him anyway."

To her surprise, Madara huffed with amusement. "As much as I would like to, that's probably a bad idea," he said. "They really will cut me from the family."

"Did it ever occur to you that you could do the right thing and come clean?" Sakura asked. "You're trying to be respectable, aren't you? Maybe instead of blaming the Senjus, you should fess up."

"And do jail time?" Madara asked incredulously. "Who would take care of you then?"

"I took care of myself long before you came into the picture," she snapped, though she was glad that he was opening up and that his mood seemed to be improving. She thought it did him a lot of good to speak his mind and she vowed to make him do it more often. "Besides," she continued. "Having a convict boyfriend sounds kind of hot."

Madara gave her a dry look. "I'm not getting convicted," he growled.

"So this means you aren't selling your shares of the company, then," Sakura surmised.

"Not until this is all worked out."

Sakura let out a sigh of her own, wondering if tangling herself up with Madara had been a good idea. He was handsome and charming, sure, but this was much more than she had bargained for.

"It sounds like you need to talk to your brother," Sakura said, "and the rest of your family. I'm sure you didn't do this alone, so there's no reason to handle it alone."

"I'm not alone. I have you."

"Well, I can't help you with this," she said, though she was pleased that her presence in his life offered him some comfort. "But I do have one piece of advice to offer. You should apologize to Hashirama and Mito."

Madara sent her a look that said, 'that's never going to happen.'

"Me, too," she said. "You ruined everyone's evening."

He only rolled his eyes in response to that, and then rolled right past the exit to Sakura's house.

"Hey, where are you taking me?" she demanded. "My house is that way."

"Home," he answered.

"I want to go to _my _home," she insisted. As much as she had missed him, this time apart was doing them good. She especially needed space after that tension-filled dinner.

"It is your home," he replied.

"Madara."

There was a brief silence. Madara looked over at her, caught somewhere between amusement and frustration. "Yes?" he finally said.

"I want you to take me home, please."

He frowned, but he kept his eyes on the road. "I thought you could spend the night with me," he said.

"Well, after the events of tonight, I'd rather just go home," Sakura said.

His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. She saw the muscles in his jaw tense and then relax again. He breathed shakily through his nose and then flicked his gaze over to her.

"You're upset," he posited.

"Yes," she said calmly. There was no need to exacerbate the situation.

He let his foot off the gas pedal and pulled into the right lane so he could take the upcoming exit. "You're very calm when you're upset," he ventured.

Sakura sighed in relief as he exited the highway and merged back onto it going the opposite direction – toward her house.

"Not everyone yells when they're upset," she said softly. "That was embarrassing, you know. I was trying to make a good impression on Mito and you dragged me out of there like I was a dog on a leash. What will she think of me now? That I'm your obedient little bitch?"

Madara blinked rapidly, and Sakura had the feeling that he was holding back an amused and lecherous grin. Wisely, though, he was successful in hiding it. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "You're right."

Sakura hadn't known Madara long enough to know how rare an apology from him was. He didn't seem so put out by it now, and he was taking her home like she had asked.

"Apology accepted," she said. "I know this situation must not be easy for you. I just wish you had let it go for tonight. I was really looking forward to dinner."

"I know, darling," he said, his voice returning to its normal arrogant tone. "You were so cute all nervous and over-dressed. Why don't I invite them over for a re-do dinner tomorrow? At my place. I'll apologize to Hashirama."

Sakura stared at him in disbelief. "Apologize for what exactly?"

"I have plenty to apologize to him for," Madara said ruefully, "the least of which was tonight. If he wants to stay out of his brother's business, that's fine by me. I'll take my grievances up with Tobirama."

"You really dislike him, don't you," Sakura asked, smacked hard by the absolute loathing with which he uttered the younger Senju's name.

"I hate him," Madara seethed. "He's a worthless, spiteful snake. He's been out for the Uchiha family since he was a teenager. If he wasn't Hashirama's little brother, I'd kill him."

"Madara!" Sakura gasped. She had threatened to kill people in jest before (mostly Naruto, and occasionally Neji), but she could tell that Madara meant it. He truly wanted Tobirama dead.

"Relax, darling," Madara said. "I'm not going to kill anybody."

"Why do you hate him so much?"

They veered off of the highway, passing the glimmering streetlights and neon signs of the market district. Sakura could feel Madara's gaze on her. She felt strangely alive tonight, a little wild and imbalanced. She was having a hard time convincing herself, tonight at least, that Madara was good for her. His raucous, tenacious energy, though not new to her, had surprised her. She liked him when he was calm, when he was thoughtful. Tonight he was ferocious.

"He was always trying to drive a wedge between me and Hashirama," Madara said. He must have been aware of the mental distance she was putting between them now, but he acted like everything was fine. "He thinks of the Uchihas as beneath him, beneath the Senjus."

That sounded familiar to Sakura. Madara knew he was elitist. Where was his room to talk?

"Why would he think that?" Sakura asked.

Madara said nothing, but Sakura already knew the answer. It was obvious. The Senjus upheld the law and the Uchihas broke them. It was no wonder Tobirama had it out for the family. Of course he would try to pry his brother away from their evil clutches. The scope of the Uchiha family's corruption was unknown, but Sakura was beginning to think it was rather broad.

And it scared her.

They pulled into Sakura's neighborhood in stony silence. Sakura crossed her arms over her chest, feeling nervous all over again. What had she gotten herself into with him? The second he had put the car in park, Sakura shot out the door. Being trapped inside the car had made her feel sick, so she gasped in the fresh air.

"Sakura, darling, are you alright?"

She felt his hand on her back, heavy and warm. Sakura bent her knees, feeling like she might vomit. "I'm fine," she said breathlessly, but he didn't move his hand.

He forcibly lifted her shoulders, squaring them to face him. She held her breath, feeling her eyes start to water, though she couldn't tell if it was tears or the well of nausea in the pit of her stomach. Madara's hand came to her face, tilting her chin so he could peer into her eyes.

"You're not fine," he said. Through the blur in her eyes she could still see that his brows were knit together with concern.

She didn't have the words to express what she was feeling. Instead, they burst out of her in the form of sobs. How could she possibly look past Madara's transgressions when she didn't even know what they were? How could she comfortably stay in the dark about it now?

"Sakura, why are you crying?" Madara asked. She felt his hands frame her face, his thumbs brushing at her wet cheeks. "Tell me what's wrong, darling. Tell me so I can fix it."

"How can you fix this?" Sakura demanded. "My sadist, criminal boyfriend is under investigation for god-knows-what. I saw a side of you tonight that I really didn't like. How can that be fixed?"

Sakura was grateful for the blazer she had worn; the night's chilly air was beginning to get to her. She sobbed again, leaning away from Madara's touch and shivering. It was quiet, but Sakura couldn't bring herself to care that she was disturbing the cul-de-sac's peace.

"That's what you think of me?" Madara asked.

"I don't know what to think," Sakura hissed. "I don't know what you've done." With a strengthening resolve, she wiped her tears with the back of her hands and looked up into his ruby eyes. His face was like stone. Whether he liked to admit it or not, Madara was a conflicted and emotionally unstable man. He couldn't hide his feelings so easily from Sakura, who could see that he was hurting in the faint glimmer of those red eyes.

"Would telling you make it better or worse?" he asked, though it seemed more like he was asking himself.

She straightened her shoulders and shoved down any remaining sobs that threatened to burble out of her chest. "You want me to be your wife one day, don't you?" she asked. "I need to know what I'm getting into."

Madara made a noise with the back of his throat, a sound Sakura didn't quite understand. His hand came up to the side of her neck, and in spite of herself, she leaned into it. "Oh, Sakura," he murmured. "I'm nothing but poison to you. My arrogance has never been so obvious to me. I really thought I could make you happy."

Having just steeled herself, Sakura was able to contain the next sob that caught awkwardly in her throat until she swallowed it.

"I really want to, darling. I want you to believe that," he said. "I want your happiness more than anything else in the world."

An overwhelming sense of dread filled her chest. She believed him whole-heartedly this time.

"I don't know what possessed me to think I could deserve you, Sakura," he said, sliding his hands down her arms so he could grip her icy fingers.

"I decide what I deserve," Sakura snapped.

"I've put you through enough, Sakura," he snapped back. "You know that this is just the beginning. How many times will I make you cry before you decide you don't deserve this? If I 'fix' all of this and make it disappear, I'm nothing more than the criminal you already think I am. And if I do the right thing, where will that put me? Prison? Is that what you deserve? A convict boyfriend? Will you plaster a smile on your face to come visit me down at the pen?"

"Madara, stop," she begged.

"Sakura, I'm sorry for how I treated you tonight," he said. "I don't like that side of me, either. And I don't like seeing you like this."

Dryness scratched at her throat, and she put every ounce of her willpower into not crying. "Are you breaking up with me?" she asked.

"I can't be selfish with you, darling," he said. "I have to let you go."

"You pick now, of all times, to be respectable, huh," she muttered darkly.

That got a chuckle from him, although it was a bitter one. "I do owe Hashirama an apology," he conceded. "I'm my responsibility to fix this, and I can't let you be in the middle of it. You have your research to focus on."

Sakura felt her face scrunching up into a peach pit, her eyes leaking what was too heavy for her heart to contain. Madara's finger brushed against her cheeks again and she heard the absolute devastation in his heavy sigh.

"You can always come to me, Sakura," he said, "if you need anything. I'm only doing this because I love you."

Her eyes sprang open and collided with his almost violently. "You do?"

"So much," he said, nodding. "So much that I will fix myself before I ever come near you again. I can't be the reason for your unhappiness."

"But, Madara—"

He cut her off with a searing kiss. "I'm sorry, Sakura," he said when he pulled away. "I have to make things right." He pulled her into his chest, his body wrought with tension. His arms held her in an embrace that Sakura made no effort to return, but she did bury her face in his chest, inhaling his scent, soaking in the last of the comfort her had to offer her. He pulled away from her and kissed her forehead with the utmost tenderness.

"Goodbye, Sakura."

/

Sakura did not cry at all the next day at work. She'd spent her tears the evening before, letting them all out before she slept. She woke up in a surprisingly good mood for someone who had just been dumped.

Although she might have put it to him more kindly, Madara _was_ a poison to her. He was too big a fish, had too many problems, was more a project than her research was. Part of her had known that a romance with a man like that would be a short-lived whirlwind. She hadn't expected it to end with a profession of love and a kiss, and though that was the part that irked her the most, she tried not to dwell on it.

At the hospital, she made good progress with the Senju DNA, although 'good' might not have been the proper term for it. It had been fairly easy to work straight through the first few weeks of her heartbreak once she had discovered an abnormal bone density in the Senju samples she had collected.

Fearing that it might be osteopetrosis (stone bone, as they called it in the biz), Sakura made the decision to have both Tsunade and Tobirama make appointments to collect samples from.

Tsunade had not been a willing participant in the research, but she begrudgingly gave her samples to Sakura with the understanding that something far worse than osteopetrosis could have cropped up and she was very lucky. At least this wouldn't look so bad if it ended up in the paper.

When it came time for Tobirama's appointment, Sakura felt a molten ball of nerves in her stomach. Logically she knew that he held no blame in the situation with Madara, and that Hashirama's brother was probably as kind and warm as he was. She had no reason to feel the absolute loathing for him that she did, but she found that hard to set aside. Even if she had been able to, he was still investigating Madara. Did he know that she had dated him? Had Hashirama divulged that to him?

The sound of her office door opening snapped her out of her reverie. Usually Shizune would buzz her phone when her appointments arrived, but Tobirama walked in unannounced with a serious frown on his face.

She was surprised that he looked nothing like his older brother. His eyes were narrower, his hair silvery and pale. He was shorter, with a gruff sort of face that implied he was not just temporarily in a bad mood, but perpetually severe with wrinkles to show for it. There was a harrowing energy about him that did nothing to soothe Sakura's frayed nerves.

"Dr. Haruno," he said, taking the seat in front of her desk. He reached across it to shake her hand. Timidly, she took it, hoping her face didn't give away her insecurities. "It's about time we met."

"It is?" she asked, blinking in confusion.

"I was glad when your assistant called to set up an appointment," he explained. "I've been wanting to speak with you."

Dread pooled in Sakura's stomach. "About my research?"

The corner of his mouth quirked into an amused and devious grin. "Not quite," he said, "but I'm happy to provide whatever it is that you need. From what I understand, you do very good work."

"I see." She busied herself with the preparations for sample collection, looking anywhere but his face. She could feel his eyes on her.

"I'm aware that you have a relationship with Madara Uchiha," he explained. "I'm investigating his company for fraud, and I'd appreciate any information you have to give me."

Sakura felt bile rising in her throat. She swallowed it, deciding that a blood sample would be a good place to start with him. As she prepped the needle, she glanced up at his face. It surprised her that his eyes were red, though they looked nothing like an Uchihas. She wondered if there was some mixed blood farther back in their ancestry.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Uchiha and I are no longer seeing one another," Sakura said pragmatically. She rolled the cuff of Tobirama's shirt and plunged the needle into his skin without warning. He didn't flinch. "I'm afraid I don't know anything."

Tobirama's frown deepened. "I suppose it's not unexpected," he murmured. "Madara's relationships are often short-lived."

Sakura bristled, pushing the needle a little deeper into his flesh.

"Did he ever talk about the Uchiha company with you?" he asked, unfazed.

"Never," Sakura lied. "He was very private about that sort of thing."

"I understand," Tobirama said with infuriating pragmatism. "What about money. Did he ever discuss that with you?"

"Only to brag," she supplied.

Tobirama let out a sardonic chuckle. Sakura removed the needle from his arm and moved on to the swab. He opened his mouth without instruction and Sakura swiped the inside of his cheek. As she bagged the sample, Tobirama stood up.

"My brother is quite fond of you," he said, pushing hid sleeve back down to his wrist. "You seem like a smart, capable doctor, barring your horrible taste in men."

Sakura felt her eyes narrow into slits, but she said nothing.

"For your sake, I'm happy to hear you and Madara are no longer together," he said, ignoring her ire. "You can rest assured that I will bring him to justice. If there is any information you could provide for the investigation, I hope you give me a call." He fished his business card out of his pocket and passed it to her.

He left with no ceremony and no goodbye, letting the door fall shut behind him.

Sakura crumpled his business card and tossed it into the trash.

/

Sakura confided in Tsunade about her encounter with Tobirama. She had never mentioned the particulars of her relationship with Madara before, considering it a source of embarrassment, a shining example of her gold-digging. But Tsunade was one of the people she trusted most in the world, and having never been in a relationship quite like that before, she felt the need to confess her sins to her mentor.

Knowing that Tsunade wasn't nearly as fond of her Uncle Tobirama and she was of her Uncle Hashirama, Sakura felt that venting to her would be no problem. It wasn't that Tobirama was investigating. Sakura knew that was his job; he had to do it. It was that callous way he'd barged into her office, his careless remarks about the fresh wound of her breakup.

He was cold and calculated, very much unlike his older brother. He left a bad taste in Sakura's mouth.

Even after her lengthy rant session over lunch with Tsunade, Sakura still stewed over the encounter while she worked down in the labs. That he'd sought to utilize their innocuous appointment for his own gain and take advantage of what he probably thought of as her bitterness over the end of the relationship was abhorrent. The man had no tact. Or maybe too much of it.

It hindered her ability to get much done in the labs, though at this point Sakura was mostly finished with her report on the Senju genetics. It was time she start thinking about which family she would study next.

And it just couldn't be the Uchihas, for obvious reasons. That left the Hyuugas, although the prospect of working with Neji was also sour to her. It didn't help to be reminded that while she had been certifiably dumped, Ino and Neji's relationship was as strong as ever.

As she gathered her things and slipped her jacket over her shoulders, she heard the door to the lab beep and then swing open.

The last person she expected to see in the doorway was Izuna Uchiha. He looked so much like Sasuke that for a moment Sakura thought it must have been him. Why would Izuna be here? Why would Sasuke, for that matter?

"Mr. Uchiha," Sakura said with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard about your encounter with Tobirama today," he said. Though he looked like Sasuke, his voice was very much reminiscent of Madara's, which left a horrible clanging pain in Sakura's chest.

Sakura blinked. "Tsunade told you?"

"Tsunade told Hashirama, who told Madara, who told me," Izuna explained.

"Madara knows?" Sakura gulped. She could only imagine how he would feel about that.

"Yes, and for some reason my brother refuses to call you," Izuna said. "He's been acting strange lately, and I'm assuming that has something to do with you. He has all sorts of crazy ideas in his head and I can't help but feel like you put them there."

Sakura fiddled nervously with the buttons on her jacket, glancing at the still open door. Somehow this seemed even worse than the ordeal with Tobirama.

"But that's not why I'm here," Izuna clarified upon seeing the look on her face. "I need to know what you said to Tobirama. My brother seemed convinced that you wouldn't betray him, but I know how petty a spurned lover can be, especially one of his."

"I didn't tell him anything," Sakura snapped. "Why won't Madara call me himself?"

Izuna glared at her. He was blocking her exit, and he seemed to be quite aware of it. He hovered in the doorway as if she were going to bolt.

"I don't even know anything worth telling," Sakura said, "and even if I did, he's absolutely right. I wouldn't rat on him."

"You really didn't say anything?"

"Of course not," she answered quickly. "I threw Tobirama's card into the trash. You can go look in my office."

Izuna didn't seem pacified by this. "I know you're close with the Senjus," he said. "I have a hard time understanding why you wouldn't cooperate with him."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "The only Senju I'm close to is Tsunade. I don't have a horse in this race. That's why Madara broke up with me in the first place."

"What?"

Silence filled the lab for a moment. Sakura glanced between Izuna's face and the open door behind him.

"Why did he break up with you?"

"Because he didn't want me involved in all of this!" she seethed. "But I guess that didn't work out since first Tobirama and now _you _have come to bother me."

Izuna said nothing, but there was a worried frown on his face.

"What exactly did Madara do?" Sakura asked, deciding that now was as good a time as any to get answers. "Is it serious? Could he go to jail?"

"You really don't know anything," Izuna mused. "I'm sorry to have _bothered _you, doctor."

He turned to leave, but Sakura rushed to catch him at the door. "Wait, hold on a minute," she said, stepping into the doorway so he couldn't leave. She was close enough to him that she could smell his cologne, could see the strikingly red eyes that were shaped like Sasuke's, but more of dark blood color like Madara's. "How is he?" she asked apprehensively. "Is he okay?"

Sakura knew she shouldn't be asking that. She missed him more than she wanted to admit to herself, and she knew he had only done this to protect her. Because he loved her. She couldn't decide whether she loved him back. There was so much she didn't know. But she certainly cared for him. She wanted him to be happy.

"Is he happy?" she asked hopefully.

"Dr. Haruno, my brother has never been happy," Izuna said dryly. He pushed her aside so that he could leave. Sakura acquiesced, not wanting to make things worse. "If Tobirama tries to contact you again, will you let me know?" he asked. He pulled a card from his pocket and passed it to her. "Don't throw this in the trash, please."

Sakura had no chance to respond before he was gone.

/


	14. Chapter 14

The Hyuuga portion of Sakura's research was much less intensive than she had believed. Though she had discovered a potential for blindness in the gene pool, it seemed rare. It had been no hassle to receive samples from Neji and Hinata, and it gave her something else to do besides wallow in sadness and think about Madara or the investigation.

In fact, the determination to be distracted had propelled her into finishing the Hyuuga research at record speed.

Both the Senju and Hyuuga reports had been published in the paper, met with academic acclaim. Ino had thrown a party for her and all of their friends, which had provided another much-needed reprieve from the pain of the breakup.

She hadn't thought it would affect her like this. She thought she had steeled herself against it well enough. But it wasn't the breakup itself that broke her heart. She had so firmly believed that Madara would do something unforgivable, that his feelings were all a ruse. That was what she had prepared herself for.

What she hadn't prepared herself for was the idea that he loved her. That was _ridiculous_, but she knew enough about Madara to know that he meant it. If he was truly selfish, wouldn't he have wanted to keep her around? Could she believe that letting her go was truly an act of love?

She deliberated on this while she chewed her breakfast. The Uchihas were next on her list. She couldn't just skip such a prominent family after the success of the other reports, but how could she possibly face any of the Uchihas without bursting into tears?

It was probably wise to start with Itachi for many reasons. He was the least likely to make her cry. It was a well-known fact that he had lupus, which made him a good starting point. And perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to see Sasuke. She and Madara were broken up, after all. Wasn't that what he had wanted?

Sakura was startled when her phone rang, buzzing loudly against the table. Her stomach always dropped these days when it rang, never knowing who out of the dozens of people she didn't want to talk to it could be. She sighed with relief when she saw three pig emojis flash across the screen.

"Hey, Ino," she said. "What's up?"

"Hey, forehead," Ino's cheery voice said. "How are you holding up?"

Ino was well aware of Sakura's breakup. At this point it was common knowledge all over Konoha. Their most eligible bachelor was back on the market again. It made Sakura sick to see the incessant drooling over him on social media, to see his face plastered in the tabloids like he was a tempting hunk of butcher meat.

But in the weeks since their separation, Sakura and Ino hadn't been able to spend much time together. She was always busy with Neji, and of course Sakura had her research and her patients.

"I'm hanging in there," Sakura said.

"Well I know today is your day off," she replied. "I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me today, maybe catch a movie afterwards."

In truth, Sakura didn't feel up to that, but she knew that she needed to retain some sense of normalcy right now. Socializing would be good for her; she'd spent so many nights alone lately, so many days isolated down in the lab. How could she say no when she'd otherwise be sprawled on her sofa binging tv shows all day?

"Yeah, I'd love to," Sakura answered.

/

Lunch with Ino went exactly how any good venting session should go. Ino listened attentively, provided outrage, sympathy, and understanding when appropriate, and let Sakura do most of the talking for once.

It wasn't that she had a lot to say. It was that this was the first time she felt like unleashing it. Of course she kept certain details to herself. She couldn't have Ino blasting gossip all over Konoha, especially since Tobirama was still on the hunt for information.

But it was nice to talk to Ino and have a nice comfort food kind of lunch. Afterwards they went to the theatre and watched a sappy romantic movie that temporarily relieved Sakura of her sadness.

It was almost immediately that her sadness returned, though, because when Sakura and Ino stepped out of the theatre, they saw Madara and Hashirama standing across the street. Madara must have apologized to Hashirama because they were both laughing and seemed to be in a good mood. Each of them had a beer in hand as they ambled down the sidewalk.

"Let's get out of here," Ino said, tugging on her arm. Sakura stood rooted for a moment, staring. How could he look so happy right now? How could he possibly look so handsome? Her body was urging her toward him, but Ino's grip held her in place.

In that moment, both Hashirama and Madara turned and caught sight of her. Hashirama glanced at Madara with hesitancy, but Madara only stared at her. His face was still warmed by the laughter he'd shared with Hashirama, and his lips quirked into a brighter grin. Then he lifted his hand up and gave Sakura a friendly wave.

Sakura waved back, a little unsure of what to do. Her heart panged at the sight of him, all of the pleasantness from the afternoon with Ino erased entirely. His smile faded, his head tilting with concern. Sakura felt her eyes getting hot. Her heart began to race when Madara leaned close to Hashirama and said something to him and they began to cross the street toward her.

"Sakura, I don't think we should talk to them," Ino whispered to her.

"But they're coming this way," Sakura countered, though she whole-heartedly agreed. This wound was still too fresh for her to be able to talk to him right now.

"Sakura," Hashirama said, and then sent a beaming smile in Ino's direction. "And you must be Ino?" He reached to shake Ino's hand, who offered it with trepidation. "Lovely day, isn't it? Madara and I were just out for a drink."

Madara's gaze scoured Sakura, a disapproving frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. Did he notice the puffiness in her eyes? The pallor of her skin from sleepless nights?

"Sakura, darling," he said. Sakura's heart sputtered in her chest, though she vaguely remembered that he called everyone darling and that she wasn't exactly special for that. "I heard that both Tobirama and my brother paid you a visit."

With a nod of acknowledgement, Sakura dropped her gaze to his feet. It hurt too much to look up into his face. Was he wondering what she had shared with them?

"My intention was to protect you from that sort of thing," he said when Sakura said nothing. She could feel Ino bristling beside her. "You have my word that it won't happen again. I'm very sorry that you got swept up in my mess."

"Yeah, you've got a lot of things to be sorry for," Ino snapped.

Sakura glared at her and she had the decency to look sheepish.

"I know," Madara agreed somberly.

"Madara, I didn't say anything to Tobirama," Sakura said. She didn't know why she felt compelled to reassure him of that, but now that she was in his presence again, she felt a magnetism toward him that she hadn't felt even in the height of their relationship. She mused briefly that his standoffishness with her was partly the reason. The way he always mooned over her had lulled her into a false sense of security, the promise that one day she would be his wife clinging to the chambers in her mind she was trying to delete.

"I believe you," he said, "but I must be accountable for my sins, so I wouldn't hold it against you if you had."

She looked up into his eyes as they glinted in the harsh sunlight. "Are you… okay?" she asked, feeling flustered. "I mean as far as the investigation goes."

"I'm cooperating with Tobirama," Madara replied, "if that's what you mean. He has no reason to bother you again."

Sakura glanced over at Hashirama, who looked uncomfortable.

"So what's going to happen to you?"

Madara gave her a grim smile. "That's not for you to worry about, darling," he said.

"How am I supposed to not worry?" she demanded.

He lifted his hand as if he might touch her but then thought better of it and let it fall back to his side. "Everything will be fine, Sakura," he said. "It was good to see you, but Hashirama and I really have to be going."

She wasn't ready for him to leave yet, but she didn't know how to stop him. Instead, she watched the pair of them walk away while Ino tightly gripped her hand.

/

It was only a week later that Sakura picked up the morning paper and read a headline that sent a dark chill through her whole body.

_Madara Uchiha arrested for felony fraud._

She swallowed a lump in her throat as she skimmed the article. His list of crimes was long, much longer than Sakura had accounted for. Money laundering, corporate fraud, embezzlement, tax fraud, and insider trading. She bit her tongue when she read that his maximum sentence could be up to ten years imprisonment. His arraignment was set for tomorrow morning.

Sakura dropped the paper onto her desk and reclined back in her office chair with a weighted sigh. How could she have been so blind to all he had done? Was this the kind of person Madara really was? How could someone so corrupt have been so tender and sweet with her?

She wanted to be angry with him, but she wasn't. He had done what he could to protect her from the backlash of all of this, but what had spurred all of this greed inside him to begin with? The Uchiha family had old money. What did he need to do all of this for?

A knock on her office door brought her back to the present. "Come in," she said, shuffling with the papers on her desk.

Sasuke Uchiha walked inside, his face carefully neutral.

"Sasuke," Sakura breathed. "What are you doing here?"

His brow furrowed. "I'm here for my appointment."

Sakura blinked. She had forgotten all about having scheduled for both Sasuke and Itachi to have meetings with her today. "Right," she said. "Sorry, I'm a little out of it right now."

He took a seat in front of her desk and she saw his eyes immediately fall to the newspaper article open in front of her. He said nothing, but the look on his face was grim.

"Shall we get started?" Sakura asked nervously. Again he said nothing, so Sakura began the preparations to take samples.

"I read your report on the Senjus and the Hyuugas," Sasuke ventured. "I was a little surprised by the results. What do you think you'll find in the Uchiha genes?"

She glanced up at him, unnerved by his… friendliness. He wasn't usually so talkative, nor had he ever expressed interest in her work.

"Well, I'm not sure," she answered. "Ideally I'll find nothing. It's good news that I haven't found anything very serious so far, so we'll see."

Sasuke fell silent again. Sakura took the opportunity to draw his blood. He hardly moved as she drew his blood and swabbed his cheek, acquiescing to her with quiet ease. Sakura wondered how he felt about Madara's arrest, but she didn't have the balls to ask.

"Itachi isn't too far behind me," Sasuke said after she'd finished up and was bagging his samples. "This goes without saying," he continued, "but I want you to keep your whore hands off my brother."

"Sasuke!"

He narrowed his eyes at her, forcefully pushing his chair back to stand up. "I know you were after Madara's money, and well, I warned you," he said with his dry, scathing tone. "I'm warning you again now."

"You have no idea what the fuck you're talking about," Sakura hissed. "I have no interest in your family's money."

"Then how are you funding this research?" he demanded. "I'm not blind. I know that's what you were doing at the gala."

"Well I'm not stupid either," she snapped. "I know your family was plotting to control this research in case the results turned out negative. Mayor Senju let me use public health funds, for your information. I am _not _a whore."

Sasuke's face was so close to hers and his eyes so heated that for a moment her reminded her of Izuna, which made her tremble with rage. Why were all of the Uchihas so infuriating?

"It's more than a little convenient that you broke up with Madara just before his arrest," Sasuke said with antagonistic pragmatism.

"He broke up with me," she retorted, as if that made things any better.

"Oh?" Sasuke asked with a raised brow. "Did he tire of you that quickly?"

With her fists clenched at her sides, Sakura sucked in a calming breath through her nose. "Get out of my office," she muttered lowly.

Sasuke shoved past her, but before he made it to the door, it swung open. Itachi stood in the doorway, a bemused expression on his face.

"Sasuke," he said, but Sasuke merely brushed past his brother before tossing a nasty glare in Sakura's direction.

Alone with Itachi now, Sakura thought of Sasuke's warning, giving Itachi a dubious once-over. She had never actually spoken to him before, but from what she knew of him he was quite level-headed and calm.

Unlike the rest of the Uchihas, apparently.

"Dr. Haruno," Itachi said to her. He didn't smile, but he wasn't exactly unfriendly. "I hope my brother didn't cause too much trouble for you. He's under a lot of stress at the moment, as I'm sure you can understand."

"Of course, Mr. Uchiha," Sakura said politely. "I understand completely." She felt nervous now, especially when his gaze also fell onto the newspaper article on her desk. "Please, have a seat," she insisted.

Itachi obliged her, his mouth curling into a timid smile.

"I hear you're the best geneticist in the country," he said. "I'm pleased to know the Uchiha family's genes are in your capable hands."

"Thank you," she replied, feeling a little more at ease. "I'm very proud of my research so far. I'm happy you were willing to come down here to help me out."

"I realized you probably intended to have Madara come down here for this, and since he's obviously unavailable, I'm glad to step in and help," Itachi assured her. "I could get my father down here as well, if you'd like."

Sakura's heart spluttered at the sound of Madara's name, surprised that Itachi would mention him at a time like this. She knew how bad this would look for the Uchiha family.

"Actually, I think it would be more helpful to have some samples from a different branch of the family," Sakura said, clearing her throat.

"Perhaps Shisui then?" Itachi suggested. "Or Obito?"

For some reason this made Sakura laugh, to which Itachi tilted his head in confusion. "What's funny?" he asked.

"Are you always so agreeable?" she asked, giving him a genuine smile. That didn't seem to be a common trait among the Uchihas.

"Well, all things considered, I'm in a good mood today," Itachi said, smiling back at her. She found him very handsome in that moment, and felt a blush creeping up her neck while Sasuke's warning echoed in her mind.

"Oh?"

"I know it's in poor taste to brag, especially given your relationship with Madara," Itachi explained, "but I've been chosen to be the next CEO of the company. I have a lot of ideas and I think I can accomplish some great things."

Sakura blinked. "They fired Madara already?" she asked. "He hasn't even been arraigned yet."

"Oh, no, Madara voluntarily stepped down," Itachi replied. "He turned himself in to Tobirama on his own volition."

She busied herself with a syringe so he wouldn't see how her hands trembled.

"I'm surprised you didn't already know, Doctor," Itachi said with a frown. "I thought you and Madara were close."

"We were," she said as she punctured his skin with the needle. "I've hardly spoken to him since he broke up with me."

Itachi's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He said nothing, but his eyes were cautious on her as she moved to swab his cheek. They lingered as she bagged the sample, something curious and skeptical there.

"I was under the impression that you broke up with him," Itachi ventured.

Something about Itachi made him seem trust-worthy and genuine to her. It may have been foolish, but she felt comfortable opening up to him at least a little bit.

"Madara hid the severity of his crimes from me," she explained. "I know why he did, but I think he realized that he wouldn't be able to have the kind of relationship he wanted if he didn't come clean. And then I think he realized his crimes would put me in a… vulnerable situation. So he broke up with me."

"I see," Itachi murmured. "Well, he's just full of surprises, isn't he?"

"He is?"

"Doctor Haruno," Itachi said, getting up to his feet. "Izuna and I will be attending Madara's arraignment tomorrow. Perhaps it's inappropriate of me to extend this invitation, but I think you should come with us."

Sakura's mouth fell open in shock. "Why?"

"Madara is my family, criminal or not," Itachi said. "I don't want to believe that he is a bad man, even with all the evidence stacked against him. You make him want to be better, that much is clear. I know he would appreciate your support, if you're willing to give it. I know it's asking a lot of you given the circumstances, but I can tell that you care about him. Please consider joining us."

A hush fell over the office. Sakura stared at Itachi, wondering how his composure and demeanor was so different from Sasuke's, or even from Madara's. He was confident where Madara was arrogant, calculating where Sasuke was brash. Though she knew he was only a few years older than she was, he had wrinkles around his eyes and a wisdom in his gaze that denoted a much more experienced man than his age would have her believe.

She understood now why Madara thought he would make a good CEO, why he'd be willing to give the position to Itachi rather than his own brother.

"How does Izuna feel about you being chosen as the next CEO?" Sakura blurted before she could filter the intrusive question.

It was Itachi's turn to look shocked now, but he recovered quickly.

"Izuna did not even apply for the position," Itachi explained. "Madara suggested me and the rest of the family put it to a vote. Izuna agreed I would be best suited for it."

"Madara suggested you?"

"Yes."

His head was tilted again in a signal of his analysis of her. Though his gaze was sharp, it was still warm and it vaguely reminded Sakura of Hashirama.

"I can see why," Sakura said. "Congratulations on your new position. I will consider your invitation."

Itachi flashed her a pleased and charming smile and reached out to shake her hand. "I look forward to hearing from you, Doctor."

"Call me Sakura, please," she insisted.

"Sakura," he said, testing the name. "Thank you for your time. Good luck with your research."

/

That night, as she tossed and turned in bed, Sakura wrestled with her decision. She wanted to be there for Madara. She truly did. But he had been the one to break up with her. Did he even want her there? Would he be mad? His intentions had been to keep her out of all of this mess. Would it be wise of her to willingly delve back into it?

Hearing that he had stepped down and turned himself in made her heart twist in her ribcage. He _was_ trying to be a good man, to take responsibility and right his wrongs. Even Itachi could see that. All his turmoil and agonizing over this decision had led him to confess, to seek justice for himself even if it wasn't in his favor.

Everyone made mistakes, didn't they? If Madara was repentant, could she forgive him? Was that even in her capabilities? It wasn't her that he had wronged.

He was only a man, and a lost one at that. Could it be that his quest to find his center had lobbed him down this path of corruption? Was he seeking happiness in his growing mass of wealth? Had he found it with her? Was that why he was willing to give that all up now, his company, his money, his freedom? Where did that leave him now, alone, without his prestige or his freedom?

If he had really let her go because he loved her, then did that mean he would want her back when this all blew over? Would he take her back now? Did she even want that?

Sakura's mind raced, burning with her unanswered question. Even as she finally slipped off into her dreams, she still wasn't sure what she would do in the morning.

/

Sakura woke with much more clarity than she'd felt the evening prior. She would be there for Madara, just as she knew he would always be there for her. She just couldn't sit at home wondering. It would only make her nervous.

Not that going to the arraignment didn't also make her nervous, but at least she would know immediately. At least she would be able to show her outward support.

So she met Itachi and Izuna at the courthouse. Itachi looked relieved to see her there, standing on the steps with Izuna at his side. Izuna had a scowl on his face that only deepened when he caught sight of Sakura jogging up the steps toward them.

"What is she doing her?" he asked Itachi.

"I invited her," Itachi explained. "I thought it would be a good morale boost for Madara."

"You thought seeing his ex-girlfriend would be a morale boost?"

Sakura felt dread clawing in the pit of her stomach. Itachi gave her a reassuring smile and held out his arm for her to take. "Good morning, Sakura," he said, ignoring Izuna. "I'm glad you decided to come. I think Madara will be pleased to see you."

She wasn't so sure about that, but she felt less nervous with Itachi at her side. He led her inside the courthouse where Madara was already standing before Judge Danzo. He was facing away from them, waiting for the arraignment to begin. His head was tilted down, his hands cuffed in front of him. Sakura felt her chin trembling at the sight of him like that, wishing she could touch him.

When he heard them slide into the seats behind him, he turned and caught her gaze. Sakura could see his surprise at finding her there, his eyes wide, lips slightly parted. She gave him a timid smile that he did not return. His gaze flicked to Itachi, who still held Sakura's arm, and then to Izuna.

"He doesn't look happy to see me," Sakura whispered to Itachi.

Itachi quickly released her arm. "I'm sure he's just nervous," he said.

Judge Danzo cleared his throat and began to read Madara's charges aloud. Sakura listened with rapt attention, her eyes glued to the back of Madara's head. Even from this distance she could see that his body was tensed.

"Madara Uchiha, how do you plead?" Danzo asked.

Madara lifted his chin and sucked in a deep breath through his nose.

"Guilty, your honor."

Chatter rose up around the courtroom, hushed but heated. Sakura felt an unmistakable release of tension inside, loosening something that had held her entire body taut. Danzo shushed the crowd until it fell silent again.

"Now, Mr. Uchiha," Danzo said, his gaze fierce and penetrating. "Your crimes were non-violent, but you have caused great financial harm to the city of Konoha. I cannot be too lenient with you, though I know you have connections. However, I can offer you a conditional judgement. I have set your fine at five million dollars."

This did not set well with Madara, whose head snapped up in dismay. Sakura could not see his face, but she could imagine the bitter look in his eyes. It was a lot of money.

"It's more than fair given the amount of money you've defrauded from the city," Danzo said, unfazed. "As for your sentencing… Your non-violent crimes mean that you pose no threat to the public, so it would be a waste to imprison you on the taxpayer's dime. Instead, I sentence you to 180 days on house arrest."

"180 days?" Madara demanded, rage evident in his voice.

"Unless you'd rather spend two years in prison," Danzo offered coldly. "Itachi," he said, glancing over Madara's shoulder to the Uchiha behind him. "I will release Madara into your custody after his ankle monitor has been placed. Take him back to the Uchiha manor. I know you are familiar with the constrictions of the ankle monitor, so go over them with him and make sure that he understands everything."

"Yes, your honor," Itachi said with a respectful nod. Something about the interaction gave Sakura the sense that Danzo's leniency had had something to do with Itachi. The two seemed oddly familiar.

"Madara, I hope you've learned a lesson from all of this," Danzo said, giving Madara one last disapproving look. "Court is adjourned."

/

"Sakura, what are you doing here?"

They stood back on the steps of the courthouse. Itachi fiddled with the ankle monitor on Madara's leg while Izuna stood nearby glowering. Sakura stood in front of Madara, gazing up into his very serious eyes and wondering how to begin answering such a question. Why _was _she here? Did she know how to put that into words.

"I invited her," Itachi supplied. "I thought it would look good to have her here. She's well respected in the city and it wouldn't hurt your reputation to have a woman like her on your team. Besides, it's obvious that she was concerned for you. Don't be daft."

Madara glared down at Itachi before glancing back up at Sakura's face and softening his expression. "You didn't have to come," he said.

She didn't know what to say to that, but before she had a chance to think about it, a slew of reporters began to bound up the steps, shoving microphones into Madara's face and talking over one another.

"Time to go," Itachi said, forcing a path through the crowd of reporters to the car waiting for them at the curb.

Sakura, not knowing what else to do, followed. Itachi slid into the driver's seat while Izuna entered the passenger side. Madara opened the back door and shoved Sakura inside before climbing in after her.

They peeled out into the street, reporters clambering after them. Madara let out of a heavy sigh and rub his face in his hands. Sakura was itching to take his hand in hers and give him the smallest amount of comfort, but she didn't know where she stood with him now, or even if he had been glad to see her at his arraignment.

"Sakura, I have to drop Madara off first," Itachi said over his shoulder, "but I'll take you home or to the hospital afterwards."

"Five million dollars, Madara!" Izuna groaned from the front seat. "And 180 days house arrest? Lenient my ass."

"The money is no issue," Itachi said calmly to Izuna, "and I think Judge Danzo was more than lenient in this case. Madara should be in prison for what he did. He's lucky."

Madara said nothing, his gaze turned out the window, body angled away from Sakura.

"The money is definitely an issue," Izuna insisted. "It will have to come out of the company funds."

"No, it won't," Itachi said. "Madara has more than enough money to pay the fine out of pocket. Six months from now this will all be over."

"Is that a joke? What about the family's reputation?" Izuna demanded. "It's ruined. And that's not even accounting for miss cherry bomb's research."

Sakura blinked at the odd nickname and glanced at Madara. Was that how he thought of her, too?

"Shut up, Izuna," Madara snapped. "This was the best case scenario, although I wasn't expecting to be on house arrest for so long."

A terse silence settled in the car. With a surge of courage, Sakura reached for Madara's hand and gave it a squeeze. He didn't look up at her, but after an excruciatingly long moment he squeezed back.

They remained silent all the way back to the Uchiha manor.

/


	15. Chapter 15

When they pulled up to the Uchiha manor, Madara's hand held Sakura's in a vice grip. He hadn't looked at her for the whole ride, but it gave Sakura a small comfort that he was at least holding her hand. Her stomach was fluttering, her heart pounding relentlessly in her chest.

"Alright, Sakura," Itachi said. "Where to?"

Izuna and Madara both climbed out of the car, but Madara ducked down to peer inside. "She's staying here," Madara said, reaching in to help Sakura out of the car. She didn't resist him though she knew that this was probably a bad idea.

"Sakura?" Itachi asked, as if he needed permission to leave her here. She felt a surge of affection for Itachi for being so kind and respectful toward her.

"I'll stay," she assured him and gave him a warm smile.

Itachi gave her a curt nod. A look of understanding passed between them. She wondered if Itachi had an angle here, if he was just as manipulative as the rest of the Uchiha but better at masking it with positive energy.

"I'll see what I can do about reducing your house arrest, Madara," Itachi said. "I'll talk to Danzo. In the meantime, maybe you should talk to Mayor Senju and see what he can do about all of this."

Madara gave a noncommittal grunt of acknowledgement but said nothing more. The trio watched Itachi pull out of the driveway in silence before Madara whirled to face Sakura.

"Sakura, you were supposed to stay out of this," he said. His voice was weary; she could sense his embarrassment, his frustration. He didn't seem angry, but she was hurt all the same.

"You shouldn't have to go through this alone, Madara," Sakura said. "I know you were trying to help me, but you didn't even consider what I might want. What I would be willing to do to help you."

"Why, Sakura?" he demanded. "Why would you be willing to help me? A felon. A masochist. You brought up those grievances. I cut you loose because I thought that's what _you _wanted."

"I was angry, Madara," Sakura said, "and I was scared. You wouldn't tell me what was going on and I had no idea what I was getting into."

A throat cleared behind them and they both turned to see Izuna still standing there. "Madara, I think we have more important things to discuss right now than your fickle dalliances," he said. "Can we please speak in private?"

"Later, Izuna," Madara snapped. "Give me a moment with Sakura."

Izuna looked like he wanted to argue, but seeing the glower on Madara's face he thought better of it and stormed inside the house.

"Come, Sakura," Madara said, holding out his arm for her. "Let's go to the gazebo."

Sakura took his arm and allowed him to lead her back into the gardens.

"Madara, I didn't get a chance to tell you this that night you broke up with me, and I'm not sure I could have plucked up the nerve to anyway," she said, "but I love you, too. When I said all those things I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings or make you feel like I didn't want to be with you."

His footsteps halted. Sakura stopped too and turned to face him.

"Your crimes don't matter to me," she said, staring up into his glinting eyes. "It was the secrecy that bothered me, the domineering way you treated me that night. I know it's part of your abrasive personality, but you can't treat me like you own me."

"I know I don't own you, darling."

"Then stop this nonsense," she said sternly. "We're partners, okay? If you really don't want to be with me, fine, but don't just take these matters into your own hands without considering my thoughts. I'm not so weak that I can handle these things."

"I do want to be with you, Sakura," Madara said softly. "But it's selfish. You deserve a better man than I could ever be."

"Like who?" she demanded.

Madara sighed, his gaze wandering off into the treetops. "Like Hashirama," he said wistfully. "Or even Itachi."

Sakura scoffed. "Yeah, that's be a good look, wouldn't it?" she muttered bitterly. "What would people think of me if I broke up with one Uchiha CEO in favor of the next."

Madara glared at her. "That was hypothetical," he said. "You can't be with Itachi."

Sakura glared right back.

"I mean I guess you could if you wanted to," he amended, "but I love you and I couldn't bear the thought of that."

She tugged on his hand and set them back on the path through the garden. "You told me once that you'd make sure I'd have everything I ever wanted," she said, linking their fingers together. "Yet you seem overly concerned with what you think I deserve. Do you even know what I want?"

"Academic acclaim?" he guessed. "A spacious private lab and unlimited resources for your research?"

Sakura gave him a bemused look. "Maybe I don't know what I want," she confessed.

Madara's thumb brushed against her hand and she felt invigorated to be under his ministrations again. "Then how am I supposed to know?" he teased.

"My point is that you can't offer me silly things like the moon," she said. "You are enough. I don't want Hashirama or Itachi or Sasuke or Neji or anyone else. Just you."

"Even though I'm a masochistic felon?"

"Stop," she said, but she could tell he was teasing when she glanced up at his face and saw mirth in his eyes. "I know you're trying to be better. That's my favorite thing about you, you know. You have a difficult road ahead of you, but you're still willing to make things right. I can see it. Itachi can see it, too. You _are_ a respectable man. I just wish that you could see it, too."

Madara shook his head in disbelief. "It's hard to agree when I'm shackled like this," he said, gesturing to the ankle monitor on his leg.

"I think it's kind of sexy."

They reached the steps up into the gazebo. Sakura began to climb them, but Madara tugged on her arm to stop her. Their eyes were almost level this way, and Madara took the opportunity to study her face, searching for something there.

"You're willing to forgive my crimes so easily?" he asked.

"They aren't my crimes to forgive," she said. "You're doing your time and paying the fine. What else can you do?"

"I meant my crimes against you," he clarified. "I kept you in the dark about this stuff. And I still feel bad about dinner with Hashirama and Mito."

"And arbitrarily choosing me to be your wife purely based on my good standing in Konoha," she supplied.

He nodded somberly, though Sakura was only teasing him.

"Will you just admit to me that it wasn't love at first sight?" she asked. "Tell me that you grew to love me as you got to know me, that you developed these feelings as a normal human being."

Madara laughed. "I _do _believe in love at first sight, Sakura," he insisted. "I totally believe that I was destined to love you the moment I saw you."

Sakura rolled her eyes.

"But," he continued, "it's true. My love for you grew when I realized how compassionate and tenacious you are. How you will keep me in my place and love me for the man I am and not the picture of the eligible bachelor the tabloids paint me to be."

"Keep you in your place?" she scoffed.

"Apparently it's here at this house," he muttered. Then he lifted her arms and put them around his neck. "More specifically, right here in your arms."

He leaned in to kiss her, and Sakura was so smitten with him for a moment that she almost allowed it. At the last second, she pulled back.

"So you've had a change of heart about me, then?" she asked, remembering his words the night he had broken up with her.

"Not about you," he said with a shake of his head. "About myself. If a woman like you can love me, I can't be all that bad, right? Besides, how could I deny you something you want?"

He leaned in to kiss her again, but Sakura pulled back again. "You know what I want now?"

"Yeah," he said with a grin. "Me."

His grin was so infectious and it warmed her heart to see him smiling after everything that had transpired today. She relented, giving into her urges, and kissed him. He lifted her up into the gazebo without breaking their kiss and pushed her back into the ivy-covered lattices.

"I'm glad you came to my arraignment, Sakura," he said, smoothing her hair away from her face. "What made you decide to do that after I'd broken up with you?"

His gaze was disconcertingly piercing in the lush cover of the ivy, dappled sunlight scattered across his aristocratic face. She felt breathless at the sight of him like this, warmed by the way his palm felt against her cheek.

"Itachi convinced me to come," she explained. "He seems very perceptive. Most people assumed I was using you or vice versa, but I can tell he sees our relationship differently. He thought it would make you feel better if I came."

Madara's gaze drifted off and a serious look came over him. "When Fugaku suggested Sasuke seduce you for control of your research, Itachi was the only Uchiha who spoke against him," Madara said, his voice sounding distant. "I didn't agree with his position at first, I must confess. Not that I have any room to talk, but we all thought you'd find something horrible as a product of incest and none of us were eager for that to be exposed, even Itachi. But he came to speak with me after I'd… expressed interest in you. He convinced me that the value of your research was in the truth of it and that we wouldn't be doing ourselves any favors by trying to change it."

Sakura said nothing, though she felt herself drawing back from him.

"Itachi is a smarter man than I am," Madara admitted.

"That's why you suggested him as the next CEO."

Madara glanced down at her. "He told you that?"

Sakura nodded. Then it was her gaze that was drifting off into the gardens. She had believed that the corruption of the Uchiha family ran deep, but she didn't believe Itachi was like the rest of them. Madara was as greedy and corrupt as she had initially believed, though she also believed that he could change, that he _had _changed for the better. But Itachi wasn't like him. He wasn't like his father or like Sasuke. Madara had made the right decision by suggesting he take over the company.

"If Itachi sees something in our relationship, that must be a good sign, right?" Sakura asked.

"I think the only opinions that truly matter are ours," Madara said, "but Itachi's approval doesn't hurt. I trust his judgement."

"So where do we go from here?" Sakura asked. "Am I your girlfriend again?"

Madara grinned. "If you are willing to put up with everything it entails, then I would love for you to be my girlfriend again."

"As long as you don't break up with me."

"Never," he assured her. "You're stuck with me for life. And our first order of business will be dinner with Hashirama and Mito."

"I'm guessing you'll host this time," Sakura teased.

"I'll bring in Choji from Pink Cantina," Madara said.

"Why don't you let me cook this time?"

"I didn't know you could cook."

"Of course I can cook," she scoffed. "You're the one who can't cook."

Madara kissed her. "Then maybe I'll fire Ayame and you can be my chef from now on."

"Okay, but I'm not taking less than five million a year."

"I knew you were just after my money," he teased.

/

Back inside the house, Izuna was sitting inside the parlor with a drink in his hand. The air became tense when he realized that Sakura was just behind Madara, and she considered leaving to give the two of them some privacy but Madara held onto her hand tightly.

"Brother," Izuna said, getting up to his feet. "I'm sure there's some way Itachi can get you out of this. I'm sure he can get the fine reduced at least. Then after your house arrest is over you can be reinstated as CEO. I've been thinking about it and—"

"Izuna, I appreciate your concern," Madara interrupted, "but I don't plan on reclaiming the position."

"But it's rightfully yours!"

"I conceded it voluntarily," Madara explained. He pulled Sakura over to the couch and waited for her to sit before he made his way over to the bar.

"Why would you do that?" Izuna asked, following him.

"I'm atoning," Madara explained. "Besides, Itachi will be better at it than I am. I think some time away from the business will be good for me. I've agonized over it for so long and now I'm finally starting to prioritize the right things."

Izuna glared at him and then tossed a nasty look at Sakura for good measure. "You've become complacent," he said. "I never thought I'd see the day. You realize you're going to have to liquidate some of your assets to cover the fine, right?"

"I realize that," Madara said, glaring right back at him.

"Father is probably rolling over in his grave looking at the state of our branch of the family," Izuna seethed.

"The two of us hardly even count as a branch, Izuna," Madara said wearily. He poured himself a drink and took a big swig of it. "If you're so worried about that, then maybe it's time you settle down."

"You seem to be working on that yourself," Izuna muttered, giving Sakura another bitter glance.

Sakura stood up, feeling a surge of irritation with Madara's little brother. "Izuna, if you have a problem with me, perhaps now would be a good time for you to address it," she said calmly but with an underlying tension.

Madara glanced between the pair of them, seeming to be amused.

"Don't get me wrong," Izuna said, "I'm pleased that my brother finally met a woman of his own caliber."

Sakura blinked at the veiled compliment, but her resolve tightened.

"But I know you're the one who's making him like this," he continued. "He gave up his position. He's fine with his sentence. The Madara I know is not that complacent. He's going to take a huge financial hit from all of this."

"Well, there's more to life than money, Izuna," Sakura said. "Madara doesn't have to be the richest man in Konoha to be happy."

Madara took another swig of his drink and Sakura could swear she saw the barest hint of a smirk on his face.

"Don't blame her, Izuna," Madara said. "Blame karma, if you need to place blame. Everything is going to be okay."

"You know you're not going to be able to go sailing this year, right?"

Madara laughed. "A relatively small price to pay for everything I've done."

Izuna only frowned, crossing his arms petulantly. "Are you still going to think that once Itachi sells the company to the Hyuugas?"

Madara faltered, his eyes widening. "What?" he asked lowly.

"Hinata put in an offer," Izuna explained, "and I think Itachi is considering it."

Madara shook his head in disbelief. "He would never do that," he said. "Hashirama would never approve of a merger of that scale anyway."

"Madara, this is exactly why you can't cede control like this," Izuna said. "Everything will fall apart without you."

Sakura was beginning to grow uncomfortable with the discussion, in spite of her previous nosiness about the business. Izuna was clearly upset, and while Madara was trying to remain calm Sakura could tell that he was upset, too.

She cleared her throat and two sets of Uchiha eyes settled on her. "I'm going to give you guys some privacy," she said a little nervously now that the attention was on her.

Madara gave her a pleading look but said nothing. Izuna's jaw clenched, and he said nothing either. She couldn't decipher what Madara wanted from her in that moment and her gaze softened on him.

"Excuse me," she said with a diminutive bow of her head. Before the look in Madara's eyes could change her mind, she made her way to the door.

/

Sakura stood at Madara's bedroom window, gazing out into the marina below. The day's events had made her feel uneasy, still unsure of where she stood with Madara and what it meant to be back together with him. No part of her believed that this would be easy, but she didn't know if she was qualified to comfort Madara in the way that he needed. What did she know about running a company? About keeping the peace in a family like his?

She wondered if Neji's sudden disappearance on his date with Ino had something to do with the potential merger. She considered calling Ino in that moment to ask her what she knew about it, but the elevator chimed and a moment later the doors slid open.

Madara stood there, bags under his eyes, a deep frown on his face. Instinctively, Sakura moved toward him, her hands reaching up toward his face. She smoothed the hair away from his face and he deftly swooped her up against his body and brought her over to the bed.

"Sakura," he murmured, his voice low and weary. He set her down gently against the pillows and then crawled into the bed beside her and positioned his head in her lap.

Sakura's heart constricted in her chest and she began to stroke his hair with lightly treading fingers. "Are you okay?" she asked but hated herself for asking. Of course he wasn't okay.

Their discussion in the parlor had lasted for most of the afternoon and now the sun hung low and warm in the sky, casting golden light over the bedroom. At some point Sakura heard Fugaku and Itachi enter the house, and she worried about the toll all of this was taking on Madara. He clung to her with unfettered desperation, his hands tight around her thigh as his cheek rested against it.

"As long as you're here," he said.

Sakura continued to pet his hair in silence, wondering if that really was enough. She recalled the night he had tied her up in here, how he had been morose and taken comfort from her presence. She knew what she had to offer to him, and he gave her no disillusions on how much she meant to him, how much he craved this sort of comfort from her.

But what he had to offer her was becoming more of a question. She remembered so clearly thinking that he was out of her league, that she didn't belong to an elitist, to someone so rich and handsome and charming. But having him heaped in her lap like this, inconsolable and on house arrest, she wondered.

"Madara?"

"Hmm?"

Her fingers brushed softly along her temple. "Do you remember when you said you wanted to take care of me?"

He quickly sat up, startling her with the intensity of his gaze and the sudden rigidity in his posture. "I meant that, Sakura," he said fiercely. "This doesn't change anything. I can still take care of you."

"I know, I know," she said soothingly, pulling him back down into her lap.

"I will give you everything," he said tenaciously. "The world, the moon, the sun, the whole galaxy."

He resisted her gentle tugging, his eyes piercing in the gilding glow of the late sun.

"Stop," she said, "that's silly. I don't want all that. That's not why I asked."

He seemed appropriately mollified, if a little wary. He allowed her to pull him back down so that his head was cradled in the cross of her legs.

"I just wanted to say that I want to take care of you, too," she said. "I can't give you the moon or anything, but I can be here for you. I know you need me right now, and you offered me so much of yourself. The least I can do is try my best to repay you."

Madara was still tense in her lap and she could no longer see his face. "What have I really offered you, though?" he asked with defeat, speaking what Sakura didn't have the courage to think aloud.

"You love me, don't you?" she asked. "You want what's best for me, even at your own expense. Did you miss me at all while we were apart?"

"So much," he muttered bitterly. "It was agonizing. But I was sucking the life out of you, and I took solace in the fact that you were better off without me."

"Madara, please don't say things like that," she begged. "I missed you, too. You didn't suck the life out of me. The happiest moments in my life have been right here in this house by _your _side. You know what you have to offer. You're charming and sweet and you love me. And now, after all this, I trust you. Itachi is right. You're a good person."

Silence filled the bedroom. The tension in Madara's body was beginning to melt, his hands roaming the length of her thigh tentatively.

"I need you, Sakura," Madara said with a vulnerable yearning. "You're the best thing in my life right now."

"I'm right here," she assured him. "No thanks to you," she added teasingly.

"I'm sorry," he said with a dusky voice.

"You don't have to be sorry," Sakura murmured. "There are ways you can make it up to me."

"What ways?"

Sakura curled down and grabbed ahold of his face so she could kiss him. There was an immense heat and longing behind it, one Sakura welcomed and stoked as her fingers threaded into his hair. She hated to admit she was drawn to his sadness, to his desperation for her. She _did _like to be the one who took away his pain, even if this time she could barely put a dent in it.

Madara shifted onto his back and reached for her face to hold her against him. She relinquished control to him, letting him decide how much was enough right now.

Quickly, he set a frantic pace for them, their kisses shifting from slow and lingering to hungry and electrically charged. He sat up for better access to her, his hands wandering from her face to her neck, and then lower, everywhere he could reach.

He made quick work of the modest dress she wore, lifting it over her head and tossing it onto the floor. He lavished her freshly exposed skin with kisses and slow caresses. She felt his reverence for her, felt his apology in the mesmerized way he touched her skin and let his lips brush along the sensitive part of her neck.

Desperately, she tugged at the unbuttoned collar of his shirt before he lifted it over his head in one fell swoop and was back to kissing her again.

"I missed you so much, darling," he murmured against her lips.

Sakura grinned. She had sorely missed his sweet words and affectionate pet name, and regardless of all her hesitations, even her well-guarded heart couldn't deny how indescribable it felt to be loved by a man the way he loved her.

"I missed you, too, Madara," she whispered, climbing into his lap so she could press her body fully against his. She could already feel his erection straining against his slacks, and her inhibitions fell away. She kissed him with fervor, pulling herself close enough that she felt like she could merge their bodies into one.

"I'm going to change, Sakura, I swear," he said. It was growing harder to her to focus on his words – her body was lit up, pleasure thrumming in her bones. It had been so long since he had held her like this. "No more secrets, no more crimes. I know I can be abrasive sometimes, but you're so soft and I can't risk hurting you again."

Sakura shushed him, rolling her hips over his. He groaned, but his hands came to her hips and stilled them, his eyes colliding with hers, framed by low, dark lashes. "I thought I would be the one to own you," he said, "but it turns out it's the other way around."

"Shut up," she said. "No one owns anyone. Just kiss me."

Madara chuckled and indulged her in another kiss, albeit a much more tender one. "What a fool I was to let you go."

"You can say that again."

/


	16. Chapter 16

One of the added benefits of being back together with Madara was the ability to collect DNA samples from him. Sakura had been more than willing to make a house call for him, one which led to another great benefit – spectacular sex.

Sakura had once lamented the fact that he seemed unwilling to engage in kinkier sex with her, but she no longer had such a compulsion. The yearning, tender, and desperate way he made love to her now was more than enough. In spite of her previous apprehensions about moving in with him, she had essentially done just that. Of course she still had to run home for necessities occasionally, but she had fallen into the easy routine of staying at his house, falling asleep in his arms every night, and letting Hidan drive her to and from work.

Her own bed felt so empty and so small now, her house lonely and quiet. She craved Madara's company, and it was clear he craved hers as well, especially now that he was housebound.

She thought of him constantly when she was at work, which was all too easy to do now that she was studying his genes. Such a distraction might have hindered her progress otherwise, but she found herself wholly intrigued by the Uchiha family.

The research she had collected so far was nothing of great concern, but it wasn't until she came across one particular gene that she discovered anything of importance. A variation of CADM2. She knew of its link to psychological disorders and it made her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. This was exactly the kind of thing the Uchiha family had been afraid of.

Sakura knew the proper thing to do what to have members of the Uchiha family sit down for psych evaluations, but she wasn't sure that a conversation like that would go smoothly. Tensions were already high in the family. Itachi was the logical choice of who to bring this information to, given that he was now the CEO and probably the most collected one of the bunch.

But she knew that Madara would be offended if she didn't offer him the information first. She supposed she owed him some credit – it was entirely possible that he wouldn't take the news so badly. It just seemed like a difficult subject to broach without sounding accusatory.

She was silent in the car as Hidan drove her home that night. She had become accustomed to chatting his ear off, though he rarely supplied her with any conversation himself. Tonight, though, he noticed her unusual silence and angled the rearview mirror so that he could see her face.

"Is everything alright, Dr. Haruno?" he asked.

Sakura glanced up at him through the mirror and shook her head. Part of her wondered if Hidan was relaying Madara information about the things that she said to him, though all of their conversation was innocuous. She wouldn't put it past Madara for something like that, and Hidan wasn't exactly her friend so she felt no inclination to share with him what she had discovered today.

When the pulled into the garage, Hidan led her inside the house, not pressing her for more information.

"Madara is in the dining room," he advised.

"The dining room?" They had made a habit of meeting in his parlor every night, having their meals up there instead of in the massive and overly formal dining room.

Hidan offered no other information, so Sakura made her way through the kitchen and into the dining room where she found Madara, sitting at the head of the table in front of a spread of charcuterie and candles.

"Sakura," he said, beaming up at her. He got up to his feet and took her hand, pulling her toward the table. "I prepared dinner for us."

Sakura blinked at him and then glanced back at the impressive array of foods. "You prepared this?" she asked.

"All by myself," he said proudly. "I realize I'm not the best chef in the world, so I thought charcuterie was a good idea. I wanted to be able to make it for you with my own two hands."

He pulled out her chair for her and kissed the top of her head as she sat down. Sakura's stomach grumbled as she surveilled the plates – goat cheese, almond crackers, macadamia nuts, honey, prosciutto and chocolate covered strawberries. Her heart warmed at the sight of the strawberries, and she reached for one as Madara sat down beside her.

"Thank you, Madara," she said. "This is very romantic. You didn't have to do all this for me."

"You're just on my mind all the time and I wanted to do something nice for you."

Sakura smiled and looked bashfully down into her lap. "You're always on my mind, too," she confessed. "It's sort of distracting, actually."

"Really?"

She glanced up at him, watching his eyes dance in the dim glow of the candlelight. He seemed amused by her, his cheeks pleasantly flushed. She wanted to reciprocate his mood, but she couldn't bring herself to smile as warmly as she intended.

"Is something wrong, darling?" he asked her.

No part of her wanted to ruin the nice dinner he had prepared for them, but she knew she would feel uneasy until she revealed what she knew. The expression of concern he wore cut through to her soul, and she found her appetite had suddenly disappeared.

"Madara, have you ever seen a therapist?" she asked.

His eyes widened a fraction and his lips parted open at the unexpected question. Sakura could see his shoulders become tense and his hands fist in his lap.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I know that's very personal, and I have no business knowing something like that. I just think it would be—"

"Sakura, I said no more secrets," he interrupted. "My business is your business. No, I have never seen a therapist. Now why are you asking me that?"

The brusqueness of his tone made her uneasy. She fiddled with the stem of her strawberry, avoiding his gaze.

"I found a gene in your DNA," she explained softly. "In Itachi's and Sasuke's as well. It's been known to correlate to some psychological traits like mood disorders. I think it would be a good idea for you to see a psychiatrist."

Madara's face was stony when she chanced a look up at it. His jaw was clenched and his eyes had narrowed. He seemed to be acutely aware of her attention and made some effort to relax himself. She heard his sigh of absolute defeat and longed to reach out and comfort him with touch, but she didn't have the courage.

"Do you know any psychiatrists who make house calls?" he asked.

Sakura had expected him to be somewhat angry, even if it wasn't directed at her. He stifled whatever emotions he was feeling, though, and let his question come out as neutrally as possible.

"I know a couple," Sakura said. "Would you like me to set you up an appointment?"

"Yes."

Silence settled around them, a little tense, but Madara seemed to be relaxing more by the second. There was a strange look of curiosity on his face and he stared at her with his head tilted as if he were trying to figure something out.

Sakura wasn't daft enough to be ignorant of what he really wanted to know, but the dread pooling in her stomach prevented her from directly addressing it.

"Will my psych evaluation be part of your published research?" he finally asked.

"Oh, Madara, of course not," she replied. "That's confidential, between you and your doctor. A publication like that would only be legal with your consent, and even then I'd be hesitant to do such a thing."

He didn't look mollified by this, but Sakura didn't blame him.

"So what will your publication look like?"

"The correlation between the gene and your mental health is indefinite," she explained. "I won't leave it out of my publication, and I still have more research to do, but I haven't found any diseases or anything like that. The genes themselves are not indicative of any disorders, it's merely a correlation."

Madara frowned. "If the psych evaluation isn't part of your research then why are you suggesting one?"

"Because I'm worried about you."

His eyes connected with hers. He melted a little, his shoulders drooping in toward her. Unable to resist, she reached up and brushed the pad of her thumb across his eyebrow. Madara caught her wrist and held her hand in his.

"Is this something we should all be worried about?" he asked.

"Well, you've managed to get this far," she said. "I'm worried because I love you and I know how this information may affect you, but it will be good to know. It may explain some of your… proclivities."

Madara let out a bitter chuckle. "My proclivities… That's a generous way of putting it."

"It's not a big deal, Madara," she promised. "People deal with all kinds of issues and handle them very well."

"Your fear is palpable, Sakura," Madara said dryly. "It's obviously a big deal."

"I'm not afraid," she insisted.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, Sakura," he said.

"I'm not!"

"I'll advise my family about what you've told me," he said calmly. "I think it would be good for us to seek therapy regardless of what you've found in your research."

Sakura said nothing, dropping her gaze into her lap again. She felt she was too close to this research in a very personal, and while she wasn't breaking any rules of ethics, it felt wrong. As much as she wanted to find out everything there was to know about the Uchihas genetics, she didn't want to be the one to publish the results. She didn't want to be the one to give them any bad news. Her relationships with them were already tense to begin with.

"Sakura, you don't have to be afraid to tell me things," Madara said. "You can come to me with anything. I want you to."

"I told you immediately," she snapped. "I'm not afraid."

He gave her a rather patronizing look. "I'm grateful you told me," he said softly, "but it's clear you were worried about my reaction."

"Are you not metering it now for my sake?" she demanded. "Would you have snapped if Tsunade had been the one to tell you?"

This made him roll his eyes. "Maybe," he conceded, "but _you _were the one who told me and you never have anything to worry about with me."

Sakura sighed and stared wistfully at the wonderful dinner he had prepared for them. She glanced up at his face, and his look of curiosity was still there though now it seemed different – warm and affectionate.

"I bet you would have been excited to find something like this had the circumstances been different, wouldn't you?" he asked. "It's hard for you to enjoy your work when you're so close to the subject."

She blinked at him, wondering how he had managed to read her mind.

"Well, it'll be alright soon," he said with a gentle smile. "You'll finish up the Uchiha research and move on to some other exciting study soon."

"Madara…"

He stood up and offered his hand to her, so she slipped her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up to her feet.

"You're not hungry, are you?" he asked. She pressed her face into his chest, but she could hear the grin in his voice.

"You made such a lovely dinner," she mumbled. "I'd hate for it to go to waste."

"I'll have Hidan put it away for later," he said. "You seem like you could use a drink. Would you like to go sit in the parlor?

Her appetite for food had disappeared, but she was hungry for Madara's comfort and he seemed more than willing to offer it, so Sakura nodded.

/

In the parlor, Madara had poured a strong drink for Sakura, which she took tiny sips of while he rubbed her feet. She felt spoiled while he lavished her with attention like this, and felt ashamed for having assumed he would not be so understanding.

"You know usually I tire of someone's company very quickly, even if I enjoy it," Madara said, rubbing a particularly tender part of her foot with the pad of his thumb. "But when you're away I can't help but count the minutes until you return. It all seems like time wasted without you here."

Sakura cocked her head to the side and watched him with rapt attention. He was being exceptionally kind to her today, almost as though he thought she were something fragile and delicate.

"What about before you met me?" she asked.

His red eyes darted up to hers. "What do you mean?"

"Did all that time feel wasted, too?"

His hands wandered farther up her calf, massaged the muscles there with the utmost tenderness. "Sort of," he replied with a husky voice. "I mean I felt very directionless, like there was nothing to look forward to."

Sakura reclined back against the sofa cushions and let out a contented sigh. "What do you have to look forward to now that you've already got me?" she asked.

Madara laughed. "Spending the rest of my life with you," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Making you happy. Knowing that I have everything I want."

"Finding your center?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"It's closer to my heart every day," he said.

Sakura folded her legs underneath herself, pulling them out of his reach. She leaned forward, hands braced against his shoulders, and pulled him into a warm kiss. "I'm glad you're happy, Madara," she said. "I love seeing you smile, hearing you laugh. And not in that haughty, holier-than-thou way you did when I met you."

He chuckled and drew her in for another kiss. "Come on, Sakura, you know you love my arrogance."

"I love you even more now that you've been knocked down a peg."

"Do you?" he asked with amusement. "How much will you love me if I file for bankruptcy?"

"Enough that I would support you and you could be my house husband."

Madara's grin beamed brighter than the sun and he kissed her again, and then again and again. His hands trailed over her body, soft but possessive. "For you, Sakura, I would consider it," he murmured against her lips. "Is that what you want from me?"

"It's too soon to tell," she murmured back. "Right now, all I want is to fuck you."

"Your wish is my command."

/

Though it wasn't really Sakura's place to determine what medical care was best for the Uchiha family, she had taken it upon herself to make sure Madara got the best psychiatrist in Konoha to make his house call. It had taken a bit of bribing on her part (Madara had just been charged as a criminal in a scandalous way, after all, and it was the talk of the town), but Iruka had agreed to meet with him once a week in his home.

Sakura knew Iruka to be the absolute best at his job, and he was a man she trusted with her whole heart. Madara put up no fuss about him, but offered no insights into how their sessions were going. Sakura didn't ask. They existed harmoniously together, in love and thrilled with each other's company. Sakura continued her research as normal while Madara played the perfect house husband for her, always ready with dinner when she came home, eager to learn about how her day went.

It was sheer bliss.

Even the rest of the Uchiha family posed no problem for Sakura. She had met with Itachi to discuss the findings of her research. It was no surprise that he took the new information very seriously and promised to ensure that his family was properly looked after. Sakura in turn had assured him that she would not lie in her publication, but would not frame it in such a way that it shed any negative light on the Uchihas.

This symbiotic relationship she had with Itachi was encouraging. She trusted him and respected him, and was glad to know that the Uchiha company would not flounder under the duress of a change of leadership.

While she had been curious about the possible merger with the Hyuuga company, she didn't have the courage to press Itachi himself about it. Instead, she would voice her curiosities to Madara, who didn't seem concerned about it at all anymore.

But since her curiosity was insatiable, Sakura had taken it upon herself to ask Ino about it. Neji had confirmed to her that Hinata had indeed tried to buy out the Uchiha company, but that Itachi had considered and rejected the offer.

So for once, it felt like everything was exactly how it should be. Madara had invited the Senjus over for dinner again, and was far more agreeable this time. He and Hashirama had slipped away after dinner to play basketball, leaving Sakura and Mito to become more acquainted with one another over drinks in the parlor.

They became fast friends, and the couple came over quite often for visits, which Sakura knew Madara was exceptionally fond of while on house arrest.

She realized that he missed going out to dinner, and sailing, and going downtown, and while there was nothing she could do about those things, she did make a pointed effort to make his time at home more enjoyable. She engaged in a few games of basketball with him herself (even though she lost every time by an embarrassing margin). She found movies for them to watch together, puzzles to do, games to play. They often went for strolls through his garden and huddled in the gazebo to watch the stars.

Sakura was on cloud nine. When it came time for her final study to be published, the results were met with academic acclaim. There was no resistance from the Uchihas, not even Fugaku or Sasuke. Madara and Tsunade couldn't have been more proud of her. She was elated by the praise and generally pleased with the direction her life was heading. She could see her future with Madara bright ahead of her, and she was satisfied.

The only hitch she encountered during the first month of Madara's house arrest was the day she realized her period was late. Sakura was not the type to freak out of such an irregularity, but she had also not been having sex previously. She began to feel nauseous some mornings, and that was when she took the first pregnancy test.

In Madara's bathroom, she sat on the edge of the tub, staring at the stick and waiting for the results. She could hear Madara in the bedroom, flipping through the pages of a magazine. Her heart was clenched painfully in her chest, her nerves frayed to the point she thought she might vomit.

She had never considered she might get pregnant, though she and Madara were not all that safe when it came to sex. They never used a condom, and though Sakura was on the pill, she had been sort of careless about taking it, especially prior to meeting Madara.

Now she cursed her own stupidity, gripping the stick with trembling hands. How could she have allowed this to happen? She was a doctor. She was smarter than this.

When the positive symbol appeared at the end of the stick, Sakura felt bile rise in her throat. She didn't feel ready to have a baby yet. Her relationship with Madara was finally going well and she didn't want this to ruin it. How would he react to this? They had never discussed having a family and she was terrified to spring something like this on him, especially now. Even if he were happy with the news, he wouldn't be able to attend doctor's appointments with her, or go with her to the stores to pick out things for the baby.

And there was no guarantee that he would be happy with the news. Would he want her to abort it? Would he want nothing to do with her anymore if she refused?

"Sakura?"

She glanced up at the door and realized her cheeks were wet with tears.

"Are you alright in there?" Madara asked.

As always with Madara, Sakura knew it would be best to just bite the bullet. The sooner it was out in the open, the better she would feel. At least then she would know how he felt and how to proceed from here.

But the logical reason to share the information did nothing to quell the fear of speaking the words aloud to him

She opened the bathroom door. Madara stood in the doorway and his brows knit immediately in concern when he saw the tear tracks on her face. "What's wrong, darling?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

Before she could answer, he glanced down at the pregnancy test in her hands. She released it to him when he reached for it. She saw the bob of his throat as he swallowed. He stared at the test for a second before his lips curled up into a smile. He laughed. "I'm going to be a father?" he asked.

When he glanced back up at Sakura's face, his smile disappeared. He brushed the tears from her cheek with the pad of her thumb and smiled again, though this time it was softer, metered.

"Oh, darling, you must be terrified."

A sob escaped her and she pitched herself into Madara's chest. "I'm so sorry," she said, hating herself for letting this happen.

"Sakura, you have nothing to be sorry for," he said, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "It's as much my fault as it is yours, isn't it? Besides, aren't you happy? You'll make a wonderful mother."

She sucked in a shaky breath and pulled away to look up into his eyes. "I'm not ready to be a mother," she said tearfully. "I'm just not ready."

"Oh, Sakura." He pulled her back into his chest and let her cry against him. "It's going to be okay, darling. Here, let's go sit down. We can talk about it."

He pulled her over to the bed and lifted the blanket for her to climb underneath. Still distraught, Sakura acquiesced with his gentle urging and snuggled up against him when he sat down beside her.

"What are you so afraid of?" Madara asked her.

"Everything," she said, feeling herself calm down under Madara's touch. "A child is so much responsibility, financially and emotionally. And pregnancies can be difficult or painful, so can labor. A baby could put a strain on our relationship, and I really don't want that to happen since things are going so well for us right now. You won't be able to come to doctor's appointments with me. And what about your family? How are they going to feel about me having your baby? Everyone's going to know I've been shacking up with you during your house arrest."

Madara was silent for a moment, stroking her arm with gentle fingertips. He sighed and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

"Sakura, I will be with you every step of the way," he said with conviction. "This baby is a blessing. You are the smartest, most capable woman I know. I couldn't ask for a better mother for my child. I will do absolutely everything in my power to make both of you very happy for the rest of your lives. I know you have a lot to be afraid of, and I'm scared, too. But we'll be a family. We'll have a son or a daughter. That is something to celebrate."

She tilted her chin up to look at him, her eyes still glistening though the tears had stopped falling. "You'll take care of me?" she asked with pleading eyes, "when I'm swollen and hormonal and crying all the time?"

Madara chuckled. "Of course I will," he promised. "It's all I've ever wanted."

Feeling her eyes grow hot again, she buried her face in his chest.

"I'll humor every strange craving you get and massage your swollen feet and make sure you don't have to lift a finger for anything," he continued.

Sakura sniffled, feeling more emotional than she wanted to. "I'll have to see a doctor and confirm that I really am pregnant," she said softly. "If I am, I'm sure I'm not very far along yet. I may be getting worked up over nothing."

Madara's fingers froze on her arm. She pulled away again to glance up at him and saw a frown tugging at his lips.

"You'd be disappointed, wouldn't you?" she asked. "If it turns out I'm not pregnant. I shouldn't have told you yet."

"No, no, darling, I'm glad you told me," he insisted. "I admit, I'd be disappointed, but that doesn't mean you need to bear the toll of this by yourself."

She rested her chin on his chest and felt the weight of his warm gaze on her face. This would make him happy, she realized. He wanted to take care of people, of her specifically, and whatever children they might have.

"You want this baby, don't you?" she asked. How could she have thought he would be angry? Of course he wanted a family.

"Very much," he said earnestly. "I'd love the chance to be a father."

"You'd be a great father, Madara."

He grinned and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "Do you think I'd be a great husband, too?" he asked.

Sakura's heart jolted in her chest. She had certainly imagined that they would get married one day, but she had imagined it far in the future.

"I'm not asking you to marry me right now," he said, seeing the look of panic on her face, "but would you consider it? Would you want to be my wife?"

Sakura sighed and tilted her face up to press a kiss to his lips. "I was always under the impression that I'd be your wife one day," she said. "I don't like the idea that you're asking just because I'm pregnant, though."

Madara let out a hearty laugh. "I'd have asked you months ago if I thought you'd say yes," he said.

"Well, you've always been a little emotionally intense," Sakura teased.

"Well, I love very intensely," he replied with a grin. "So is that a yes?"

Sakura smiled, though there was still a desperate apprehension in her heart. "I don't need to consider it, Madara," she said. "I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Who would have thought the happiest moment of my life would have been while I was on house arrest," he said and then kissed her.

/


	17. Chapter 17

With the conclusion of her current research, Sakura thought it best to take a hiatus from work until after the baby had come. With no project to be working on, it seemed best to devote that time instead to preparing for the baby. And though she would never have admitted this to Tsunade (who seemed quite happy for her to take an extended break), Sakura was scared. The idea of having a baby daunted her, and she knew she wouldn't be able to do her best work with a distraction like that.

Madara was absolutely thrilled by her decision and had insisted that she move in with him immediately. Part of her wanted to resist him, but she knew it was inevitable. He was the father of her child. He would be her husband one day. There was no use in delaying moving in with him. And she as soon as she found herself surrounded by her own belongings, it no longer felt like his home. It was _their _home.

Shortly after moving in, Madara had taken her back to what had previously been his sex room. He gripped her hand tightly, an inexcusably bright grin stretched across his face. She had a suspicion of what would be on the other side of that door when he flung it open, and something about it filled her with dread.

She knew he had taken up woodworking during his time on house arrest and had built a beautiful crib for their baby. She had seen the painters come with brushes and bright colored buckets. She had seen deliverymen carrying all manner of furniture and boxes through the house.

But Sakura couldn't stomach the idea that her child would be sleeping in what had formerly been Madara's sex dungeon. It just didn't sit right with her. She was mulling over how to explain this to Madara without crushing his exuberance when he pushed the door open and led her inside.

To her great surprise, it was not a nursey that he was showing her. Instead, it was another parlor, one filled with _her _things. Her plants from her kitchen window, the vanity from her bedroom, her little writing desk and matching chair. It had been repainted in a pink that was eerily similar to Sakura's hair, and the floors redone in white tile.

Astonished, Sakura glanced up at his face, mesmerized by the grin still adhered to it. "What do you think?" he asked.

Too stunned to speak, Sakura ambled through her room, touching the items with reverence. "I thought…"

"I didn't think it appropriate to turn it into a nursery," Madara said, guessing her thoughts. "I decided it would be good for you to have room to escape to in case I grate on your nerves." Nervously, he scratched the back of his neck, obviously unable to intuit her feelings on the room. "I know I can be aggravating sometimes."

Sakura laughed fingering the white satin curtains at the window. "Inappropriate for the baby, but perfectly suitable for me?"

Madara's grin had vanished and he stumbled over an answer for her before Sakura put him out of his misery and pushed up onto her tiptoes to kiss him. "I love it, Madara," she said. "Thank you."

He strummed his fingertips along her arms and gazed warmly down at her. "Feel free to make whatever changes you want to," he said, "not just in here. This house is yours now, too."

"Where will we put the nursery?" she asked. "I'm afraid we won't be able to hear if the baby cries since we'd be on a different floor in the bedroom."

Madara nodded. "I've thought of that as well," he said. "I think it would be best to renovate a corner of our bedroom just until he's old enough to sleep in his own room."

Sakura quirked a brow. "His?" she asked. "What makes you think it's going to be a boy?"

He reached down and cupped her stomach, which was not quite big enough to look like anything more than a particularly heavy meal at this point. "It's just a feeling," he said wistfully. "I've always wanted a son."

Sakura playfully swatted his hands away. "Well, I hope it's a girl," she said. "There are more than enough Uchiha men in this world."

Madara laughed. "You'll have a soft spot for this one, though," he teased.

"I have a soft spot for this one, too," she said, poking him in the chest. Again, she pushed up onto the tip of her toes to kiss him, and this time he lifted her up off the ground so he could kiss her properly.

"Darling?" he asked, smoothing the hair away from her face tenderly.

"Yes?"

"I'd like to have a party," he said. "An announcement party. We can invite all of our friends and family for a nice dinner and then give them the good news."

"That's a wonderful idea, Madara, but we should wait until I'm a little farther along," Sakura said. "It's too soon to announce it yet. I'm not even six weeks in."

Madara frowned. "So?" he asked. "What difference does it make?"

Soothingly, Sakura rubbed her thumb over his brow. "Pregnancies are usually announced at the end of the first trimester," she explained, "when the risk of miscarriage significantly lowers."

He dropped her to her feet. "Miscarriage?" He hands flew to her face, tilting it so that the sun through the sheer curtains gilded her skin. "Sakura, I…"

Sakura smiled reassuringly at him, bracing her hands against his broad chest. "Don't worry, Madara," she said. "The baby will be just fine. And in a month or two I won't be able to hide the baby bump anymore and we can have as big a party as you want. Do you think your family will be happy to hear the news?"

Madara's frown only deepened, his brow furrowed with this new concern. He didn't speak, his lips parted as though the words were on the tip of his tongue.

"I've told Tsunade already," Sakura said, filling the silence with whatever she could, "and she was very happy for me. I'm sure Ino and Naruto will be thrilled. And of course my parents, too. I wonder what Kakashi will think. You know he's always been rather protective of me. I'm sure he'll be—"

"Itachi will be very pleased," Madara said, interrupting her babbling. "There's been a lot of pressure on him to marry and have children. I'm sure this will ease some of that tension. Or maybe make it worse… I'm not sure."

"Oh," Sakura said with a slow blink. "Well, I'm sure a man like Itachi would have no trouble finding a wife. You managed it, didn't you?"

Madara's frown finally faded. "You aren't my wife yet."

Sakura waved her hand dismissively. "It's only a matter of time," she said. "I'm practically your wife already."

"Is that so?" he asked with a smirk. "I don't see a ring on your finger, Mrs. Uchiha."

Sakura's heart puttered in her chest at the address. "Well, I don't think I've been properly proposed to yet, Mr. Uchiha," she said primly. "Besides, is the baby in my belly not enough?"

"Sakura, darling, I can't propose to you without a ring," he said with regret. "And I'm unable to go buy a ring at present. Do you want a grand proposal from me? Something romantic."

A short, sweet laugh escaped her and she slid her hands up from his chest to wrap around the back of his neck. "I don't need a grand proposal or a ring," she said. "I only need you."

She kissed him, stretching the length of her body against his, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world. His hands came to rest on the small of her back, holding her tightly against him.

"You need a ring, at least, darling," he insisted. "Then we can have an engagement party."

Sakura giggled. "You really want a party, don't you?" she teased.

"Yes! I've been cooped up here for too long," he said. "And I want the world to know how much I love my future wife."

"Alright, alright," she said. "Why don't we take a look at some rings tonight? We can have as big a party as you want. We have a lot of preparations to make, you know. Not just for the party, but the baby."

"And the wedding," Madara added.

Sakura gave him a demure but stern look. "The wedding will have to wait a while," she said. "By the time you're off house arrest, my belly will be huge. I'm not getting married with a baby bump. Besides, I don't want people to think we're only getting married because I'm pregnant. It'll have to wait until after the baby comes."

Madara rolled his eyes. "We're getting married because I love you," he corrected, "and because you love me. I'm sure that's obvious to everyone who knows us, but even if it isn't, it doesn't matter. We know why we're getting married."

"Are you in a rush or something?" she asked. "I thought you'd want me to sign a prenup at least. Doesn't it take some time to draw those things up?"

Madara wrinkled his nose in disgust. "We do not need a prenup," he said dryly.

"You should be more careful with your money, Madara," she warned in jest. "You know what happens when you marry gold-diggers."

"I end up dead or broke?"

Sakura giggled again.

"I trust you with my heart, Sakura," Madara said solemnly. "So I also trust you with my life, and definitely with my money. No prenup."

"Yes, sir," she said with a nod. Feeling a surge of affection for him, and possibly a little pity, Sakura wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. Madara had come so far in the time she had known him. He'd sought out a trophy wife when all he had really wanted this whole time was to be truly loved.

And Sakura hadn't known this at the start, but it was all she really wanted, too.

/

Later that evening, Sakura sat in Madara's lap with his laptop perched on her thighs, scrolling through pages of engagement rings online. Sakura was not picky and had never given much thought to how she wanted her ring to look, but they squabbled about price, and even moreso about size. Madara wanted something large and flashy while Sakura was content with something smaller and less boastful.

"I just don't see why I need a ring so big," Sakura said. She held her hand aloft for him to see. "My hand is tiny, so I should have a tiny ring."

Madara reached for her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the tips of her fingers. "Your hand is very tiny," he agreed. "So small that a man might not even see it and therefore not realize that you are a married woman. Which is why your ring should be big. Eye catching. So extravagant that anyone could see by looking that you are a woman taken by a man far more capable of caring for her than he could ever be."

"Ah, that's what this is," Sakura drawled. "It's a cuff of ownership to you. You want people to know I belong to you."

"Because you do, darling."

Carefully, Sakura set the laptop on the coffee table beside them and shifted around to straddle Madara's lap.

"No," she said firmly. "_You _belong to _me._ Do you understand that, Mr. Uchiha? You are mine now."

"Very well, darling," he agreed with an amused smirk. "I'm yours."

"Good," she said primly. "Glad you understand. Then I will get a small ring for my small hand."

"Why don't I just buy you a plastic ring from a gumball machine?" he offered.

Sakura shook her head, twining her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. "I think I want a ruby ring," she said, though they had only looked at diamonds so far. The more she stared into his eyes, which belonged to her now, the more ownership she felt over the color red. She knew it was his favorite color, and how could it not be hers as well?

"Do you?" he asked with a quirked brow. "I wonder why."

"If I wanted to pluck one of your eyes out and wear that as my ring, would you let me?" she asked.

"Oh, absolutely, darling," he replied. "I'm sure it would look much better on your hand than it does in my head."

Sakura grinned and leaned down to kiss him. "I'm not so sure about that," she said. "I think a ruby would suffice."

"Don't you think a diamond would be a bit more appropriate?" he asked. She eyed him, unsure of whether or not he truly wanted to dissuade her from the ruby. It seemed he was a mixture of flattered and perplexed.

"No," she disagreed, though not ungently.

"Why don't you just wear a red wedding dress while you're at it?"

Sakura cocked her head to the side. "That's not a bad idea."

Madara gave her a disapproving look so she kissed him again. "I had no idea you were such a traditionalist, Madara," she teased. "You know I'm not a virgin, right?"

"If you want a ruby ring, then I will buy you the biggest ruby in the world," he promised, "but I'm very attached to the idea of you in a white dress."

She wasn't exactly sure why, but Sakura found this rather endearing. "Hmm, I suppose marriage is all about compromise," she mused. "So a ruby engagement ring and a white dress, then."

"I'm not opposed to cream or ivory," he added, his fingertips skimming along her waist.

"Why don't you just help me pick one out?"

"That's not a bad idea."

Now it was Sakura's turn to fix him with a disapproving look. "That's bad luck, you know."

Madara shook his head. "I don't believe in luck, darling," he said. "Though I do think it unfair that the groom is often left out of that particular decision."

"It would ruin the surprise of seeing me walk down the aisle," she countered. "Besides, do you really plan on being so involved with the wedding decisions?"

"Oh, definitely," he said with enthusiasm. "You think women are the only ones who dream of their wedding?"

Sakura made herself more comfortable in his lap. "Tell me, then," she said, pleasantly surprised by his attitude towards the wedding. "How do you envision it?"

"Outdoors," he replied. "Somewhere by the water. Surrounded by red lilies."

"Red lilies?" Sakura asked, having no previous assumption that Madara had any interest in flowers.

"Yes, and I'll wear a black tux," he continued. "You'll be absolutely beautiful in a white gown, and it will be sunset so that I can admire the way the golden hour makes your skin glow. We'll have a strawberry cake and there will be lots of champagne. For guest favors, we'll have paper fans with the Uchiha crest on them. Your bridesmaids will wear red dresses and my groomsmen red ties. And there will be fireworks, of course. They'll look spectacular over the water."

Sakura's smile could not have been wider. "And who will be your best man?" she asked.

Madara canted his head and let out a sigh. "I'm not sure," he said. "Hashirama or Izuna. I'll have a hard time deciding between them. Ino will be your maid of honor, I presume."

Sakura nodded.

"She'll look nice in red," Madara said.

"Oh, and I won't?" Sakura demanded.

"Of course you would, darling," he assured her. "If your heart is really set on a red dress, then you should wear one. Your bridesmaids could wear navy, I suppose."

Sakura laughed. "You're ridiculous, you know," she said, poking his chest. "When did you start planning this fanciful wedding? It sounds like you've got the whole thing planned out already."

To her surprise, Madara's skin flushed with the most charming shade of red from his neck up to his cheeks. To distract her from the question, Madara slipped his hands beneath the fabric of her shirt and began to stroke the heated skin of her back with gentle caresses.

"Madara, tell me," she insisted.

"At McDonald's," he confessed, his voice bereft as if this were some great shame.

Sakura scoffed with derision. "So while you were speaking about tying me up, you were thinking about marrying me under the sunset. You know it would have been much more prudent to reverse those."

"Prudent?" he chuckled. "I doubt that. I'm sure marriage talk on the first date would certainly have scared you off. Obviously tying you up did not. Because you wanted me to tie you. I bet you still want me to."

"Don't deflect," Sakura said pointedly, shuddering under the sweep of his touch. "You say all the time that you knew the moment you saw me that I'd be your wife. How could you possibly have known that?"

"Intuition, darling," he answered. "Your face was etched into my mind the moment I saw you, and it hasn't left since. How many hours have I wasted just daydreaming about you? Too many to count."

The sentiment was lovely, even if Sakura didn't completely buy it. Tempted by his ardent admiration for her, she pressed a sensual kiss to his mouth. "You daydream about me?" she whispered against his lips.

"Constantly."

"Do tell."

He gave her an endearing and knowing grin. "You just want me to stroke your ego."

Sakura grinned back. "You stroke something of mine and I'll stroke something of yours."

She felt his cock twitch beneath her and her grin widened. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and the heated, amused look in his eye left her a little breathless and warm. A pleasant tingle had developed between her legs, which she squeezed tighter around his thigh to alleviate some of the agonizing pressure there.

"I couldn't possibly dream up anything more perfect than reality," he offered, "although I often imagine us sailing together. How lovely you would look perched on the bow of my boat, your hair tied back, your hands on my chest."

"Like this?" she asked, positioning her hands on his strong chest, fingers curling ever so slightly in the fabric of his shirt.

"Mmm, yes," he murmured, "and your lips on my neck."

Obediently, Sakura pressed her mouth to the column of his throat, leaving a trail of soft kisses there. He palmed the back of her head, holding her against him. He groaned when she rocked her hips against his.

"How pleasant," she murmured against his throat. "And do you still think about tying me up?"

"Not so often anymore," he confessed.

Sakura pulled back just far enough to give him a scathing look. "Because I'm not suited for that kind of debauchery?"

Madara fingered at the thin straps of her shirt, sliding one down to bare her shoulder and collarbone. "Because you are committed and submissive to me in much more enticing ways now," he explained. "There is no need to tie you up when I own you the way I do."

"You do not own me," she said bitterly, though not without affection.

"Yes, I do, darling," he insisted. "I own you, body and soul. And I am equally yours. An even exchange."

He pulled down the other strap of her shirt and pulled it down to her waist to expose her breasts. His eyes lingered on her face while he took her nipples between his fingers and gave them gentle pinches.

Sakura melted immediately, the pressure building impossibly quick between her legs. Madara's eyes dipped down to the flush on her chest, the breasts framed by the twist of his fingers. His breath grew quicker and he leaned up to press his face into the hollow of her throat.

"Come on, darling," he urged. "Tell me that you're mine. Let me have you."

"You already know how much I love you," she said, letting out a hiss of air as he cupped both of her breasts and squeezed hard.

"Don't make me tie you up," he warned.

"I thought there was no need for that," she teased.

"Say it, Sakura." He pushed his hands beneath her ass and upended her onto her back, crawling quickly to cover her body with his. He used the weight of his body to press her back into the sofa, his hands toying with the drawstring of her shorts.

"Why are you so obsessed with the idea of owning me?" she asked a little breathlessly, arching into his touch in spite of her irritation.

He was tugging roughly at her shorts, pulling them down over her hips with a bit of struggle. He paused for a moment to look up into her eyes, his gaze serious but warm. "Because I'm terrified by the thought of losing you."

Sakura shook her head and grabbed him by his hair to pull him down into a kiss. "Don't be ridiculous," she said into his mouth. "Owning me wouldn't stop you from losing me. And you are _not _going to lose me. Not again."

"No," he agreed, pressing his hardening length against his. "Never again."

Something in her chest cracked and liquified at the sincere desperation in his voice. He was practically vibrating on top of her, filling with an energy that seemed to darken the room. Sakura still didn't quite understand his need to _own _her, but she did understand that the words were somehow important to him, that he wanted to hear her say it.

"I'm yours, Madara," she said, using her grip on his hair to guide him down to her neck where he lavished more kisses on her. "I'm wholly yours."

"Yes, darling," he said, peppering her décolletage with more kisses before exploring further down to her breasts, sucking and kneading, humming his pleasure against her heated skin. "You know who you belong to now. And when did you first come to know that?"

Sakura had trouble concentrating on forming words as he finally managed to pull her shorts completely off. His fingers were immediately between her legs, soft and achingly slow. He stroked her with the utmost reverence, tilting his face up to watch the extasy in her features.

"Let's hear it, Sakura," he pressed. "How did you know you were mine?"

"When you broke up with me," she said, biting back a groan.

Madara's fingers froze, his head cocked to one side. "Oh?"

Worked up past the point of no return, Sakura rocked her hips against his unmoving fingers, desperate for the friction.

"Why then, darling?" he asked, allowing her to continue moving but unwilling to lift another finger for her pleasure until she answered.

"I knew then that you would put my happiness above your own," she said, wishing feverishly that he would shut up and go back to kissing her. "And I realized that I wanted to do the same for you."

Satisfied with her answer, Madara's fingers began to work again. "You are such a good girl, darling," he murmured, bending down to press his mouth to hers again.

Grateful for his affections, Sakura wrapped her arms around his neck and began to pump her hips against him more forcefully. Her lips and tongue became frantic against his, frenzied by his strange assertions and questions and dark but aggressively romantic mood.

"You know by the time we are married, we will have a baby to take care of," Madara said, fiddling with the button on his pants. Sakura's hands flew to help him. "That will make honeymooning quite hard."

"The rest of our life is a honeymoon, Madara." She pushed his pants down his hips, instinctively reaching for the large erection that sprang forth.

"Starting now?" he asked with a glimmer of amusement in his eye.

"Yes, please," she nodded. "Fuck me like it's our honeymoon."

He teased her with his cock, rubbing its tip along her opening with infuriating gentility. Sakura could feel herself already wet, her body hot and humming, waiting for him to take ownership of it like she knew he wanted to. He seemed to enjoy her desperation, his smirk giving him a sinister but sexy allure.

Sakura knocked his hand aside and grabbed his member, giving it a few firm strokes to flip the tables on him. He let out an appreciative hum, his smirk melting into something softer. Sakura angled her hips and guided his cock inside herself, sighing with relief at the sensation of fullness and heat.

If he wanted to tease her some more, he lost the self-control to be able to. His hips began to pump, his hands roaming over her exposed flesh before he settled his arms on either side of her head and thrusted to the beat of his own desire. His lips peppered soft, romantic kisses over her brow, her cheeks, and then finally her mouth.

Sakura mewled beneath him, her sense of touch heightened by the delicious friction between them – his chest sliding against hers, his hard thighs pressing between her legs. The calloused pads of his thumbs were tender against her cheeks while his passionate thrusting was anything but.

Her body felt the crescendo of pleasure ebbing against her, and Madara's smirk returned when he saw the rapture burgeoning in her expression.

"I love you, darling," he murmured, quickening his pace and claiming her lips again in a frantic kiss.

Sakura responded with the motion of her own hips, moving to match his rhythm, to keep the wave of pleasure inside her building.

When it finally crashed over her, she cried out his name, which was enough to tip him over the edge behind her. She felt him empty himself inside her, his weight sagging more heavily against her body. She cradled him against her, leaving feather light touches on his spine. There was no feeling quite like having a warm and post-coital Madara in his arms.

"I love you, too, Madara."

/


	18. Chapter 18

Sakura was blessed with an easy pregnancy. As her belly grew, so did her heart. Madara was going to make an excellent father, that much was apparent. He doted on Sakura like she was a literal queen, always smiling and showing her affections both small and large.

With her now prominent baby bump, there had been no need for a pregnancy announcement. Instead, with only one month left on Madara's house arrest, they decided to throw an engagement party.

Everyone had been invited, even Tobirama much to Sakura's chagrin. She supposed that his invitation was a subtle bragging on Madara's part. In spite of the investigation, he was doing better than ever. The Uchiha company was flourishing under Itachi's thumb, Madara had not lost any significant amount of money with the fine, and even the house arrest turned out to be a blessing in disguise. It had given him time to fall in love with Sakura again, to prepare for the birth of his first child.

The Uchiha manor had been lavishly decorated, the same as it had been the first night Sakura had met Madara at the gala. Hundreds of people wandered the first floor, carrying flutes of champagne and chocolate covered strawberries.

Madara had not left Sakura's side all night. His hand was always affectionately pressed to the small of her back, his grin so wide he was nearly unrecognizable to those who knew him well.

"Congratulations, Sakura," Hashirama said to her. He had been the first to arrive tonight, and his smile was as wide as Madara's. "I always got a good feeling about you. I knew you'd managed to sweeten Madara's sourness."

"I'm not sour," Madara said, bristling.

Hashirama clapped him on the back. "Not anymore," he replied with a grin. "Come. Let's go have a drink. I have some things I want to talk about with you."

Mito, who had stood silent at Hashirama's side, took Sakura's arm in hers. "Let's let the boys talk," she murmured in Sakura's ear, drawing her toward the entrance where many people had congregated. Sakura glanced over her shoulder at Madara, who gave her a wink before disappearing into the crowd.

"What are they talking about?" Sakura asked Mito.

"Oh, they're just catching up," Mito explained. "Those two have a very strange bond, you know. I hope you're prepared for your child to have Hashirama as an uncle. He was absolutely thrilled when he heard the news. The other day I saw him looking at baby clothes online."

Sakura smiled, touched.

"Sakura."

At the sound of her name being called, Sakura turned and found Itachi smiling at her. At his side were two people, Sasuke and a woman Sakura didn't recognize.

"Itachi," Sakura greeted warmly. "It's good to see you. And you, Sasuke. I'm glad you could make it."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Itachi said with a smile. "A marriage and a baby. How wonderful for the Uchiha family."

The woman next to him cleared her throat and thrust her hand toward Sakura. "Hi," she said. "I'm Izumi."

Sakura shook her hand politely.

"This is my girlfriend," Itachi explained.

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you," Sakura said, thrilled that Itachi had found someone. She was rather pretty and clung to Itachi's arm with comfortable ease. "I didn't know Itachi was dating anyone."

"Well, it's still fresh," Izumi said. She had a bubbly smile. "I hope you don't mind that I tagged along with him."

"No at all," Sakura said. Knowing what she knew of Itachi, the man didn't do anything without purpose. Izumi must be someone special. "We might be family someday, so I'm glad to have you here."

Itachi's cheeks turned red, and Sakura, Izumi, and Mito giggled at the sight.

"Do you know Mito Senju?" Sakura asked Izumi. She introduced the two, feeling a slight fizzling at her chest. She had once felt so out of place here at the Uchiha manor, filled with aristocrats and dignitaries. She felt at ease amongst them now. With Madara at her side, she was comfortable anywhere.

A gentle tug at the elbow drew her attention and she noticed Sasuke trying to discreetly pull her away from the conversation.

She politely excused herself and followed him to a more private alcove in the main hall.

"You're really going to marry my uncle?" he demanded.

Sakura blinked in confusion. "Well, we've been dating for some time and we have a baby on the way," she said. "I do love him, so I see no reason not to."

Sasuke scowled, and Sakura watched him with a tilted head, unsure of why he seemed so upset.

"You got what you wanted, didn't you?" she asked. "My research was published without a hitch. Your brother is now CEO. Why do you care if I marry Madara?"

"It just seems wrong."

Sakura glared at him. "I'll need a better reason than that."

Sasuke raised a brow. "So you would consider not marrying him?"

"He's the father of my baby," she seethed.

"My father set you aside for me," Sasuke snapped. "You were supposed to be mine. Do you know how embarrassing this is for me? I lost you to my uncle!"

Sakura's mouth fell open in shock. She had never been under any kind of impression that Sasuke had wanted her, and even with those words she didn't believe it now.

"So you're just jealous, then," she presumed. "Well, you never made any effort to be with me. I'm not a thing that you father can just gift to you."

His eyes narrowed. "Don't mistake me," he said lowly. "I have no interest in being with you. Nevertheless, it was a known fact amongst the Uchihas that you and I would be together. You've made a fool of me. Of all the men who clamor to be with you, why him?"

"Because he's got a big heart and a bigger cock."

Sasuke's fists clenched at his sides. For a moment she thought he might hit her, but he gave her one last scathing glare before he stormed away.

Sakura breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back against the marble column behind her. She could feel the baby kicking in her stomach and cradled it with her hands. She was too pregnant to deal with Sasuke's antics at the moment. In fact, this whole party suddenly seemed like too much. She needed a warm bath or a neck massage, possibly both.

"What the hell was that about?" asked Ino, who dragged Neji in tow behind her. "Sasuke usually looks grumpy, but I've never seen him look like _that_."

"He's just being a brat," Sakura said, not wanting to go into further detail with Neji standing there. A look passed between her and Ino that promised of a full conversation later.

"Well, ignore him," Ino said. "Your guests are looking for you."

/

Five months into her pregnancy, Sakura's stamina was not what it used to be. She tired easily, her feet were sore, and her belly was large enough that she suspected the baby would be quite big. The party had tuckered her out, and so she had wandered out to the gazebo for a moment of reprieve. She could still hear the lilt of the music and the chatter of her guests, which she found very calming in conjunction with the dusky darkness that was beginning to fall.

The air was fresh and the stars were bright. With a contended sigh, she leaned back against the trellis and gazed out into the gardens. She imagined her child playing out here amongst the flowers while she watched from the kitchen window. She couldn't have dreamed a more perfect life than the one she was living now.

When she heard footsteps creaking on the gazebo, she glanced up and found her fiancé stooping to get inside.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked.

"I just needed to sit down for a minute," she said. "I'm getting a little sleepy."

Madara grinned at her as if he found this particularly heart-warming. He sat down beside her and took her hand in his. "Shall I kick everyone out, then?" he asked.

"Of course not," she replied, leaning her head against his shoulder. "You should go back inside and enjoy the party."

"I'm good right here," he said, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

The settled against one another in a comfortable silence, listening to the crickets and the occasional bursts of laughter from inside.

"What did you and Hashirama talk about?" Sakura asked.

Madara pulled his arm up over her shoulders and allowed her to sink more comfortable against him. "He wanted to give me some marriage advice," he replied.

Sakura tilted her face up to look at him. "Was it sound advice?"

Madara let out a chuckle and kissed the tip of her nose. "I suppose so. He has a good marriage, so I trust his advice. He also expressed a lot of interest in the baby. I think he and Mito are trying to get pregnant."

"They should be our godparents," Sakura said. "I can't imagine a couple I would trust more than them."

Madara nodded in agreement. Silence settled over them again, and he took the opportunity to tilt her chin up and kiss her on the mouth, lingering and affectionate.

"Are you sure you don't want to know the sex of the baby?" he asked.

They had agreed to keep the sex a surprise until the birth and had picked out a boy name and a girl name. Sakura had been the one to suggest waiting, but she knew that Madara had gone behind her back and figured it out. Part of her had been annoyed, but she also understood his curiosity. And now that she knew that he knew, it was hard to keep herself from wanting to know, too.

"I suppose the surprise is kind of ruined since you already know," she said with a discontented sigh. "It would have been more fun for us both to find out at the same time."

"I'm sorry, darling," he said, rubbing her arms where goosebumps had spread in the chilly dusk air. "I'd love for you to know, too. It's hard having to tiptoe around it."

With a glare that was half annoyed and half amused, she pulled herself away from him, cradling her stomach in her hands. "Fine," she conceded. "Just tell me. Am I carrying Eito or Sora?"

Madara grinned at her and put his hands on her stomach. His gaze dipped down and Sakura's heart melted at the affection and wonder in his piercing eyes.

"We're having a son," he said. "You have little Eito in your belly."

Sakura squealed in delight and wrapped her arms Madara's shoulders. He laughed and squeezed her back. "I thought you wanted a girl," he mused, one hand around her shoulder and the other on her swollen belly.

"I want a healthy baby," she said. "I know you wanted to have a son, and I'm happy that you are getting what you wanted. You should have everything you want, and so should Eito."

"Sakura, darling, you are perfect," Madara said. "I couldn't ask for a better mother for my son."

"Ditto," Sakura replied. "But no sailing until he's older."

"I'm more concerned with taking _you _sailing," he said, though she knew that this would a point of contention for them. There was no way he wouldn't want to start taking the boy out on the boats at an early age. "Not until after you've had the baby, of course."

"Why?" she asked. "Too dangerous for a pregnant woman?"

His body stiffened beside her. "Not exactly," he murmured, realizing what he had just done. Too dangerous for her meant too dangerous for their son as well. "You know I would never let anything happen to you or our baby. I just think it would be a bit cumbersome for you. You get exhausted so easily these days."

"You know after the baby comes, we might not have time for sailing," Sakura pointed out. "He's going to keep us very busy."

Madara chuckled. "We can always ask Uncle Hashirama to babysit," he said. "He would love it."

Sakura shivered and settled herself more warmly against him, leeching his heat. Her head was beginning to feel heavy, and even though the night was still young she could have fallen asleep right there in the gazebo.

"You cold?" Madara asked.

Sakura murmured something unintelligible, letting her head droop against his shoulder again.

"Alright, darling," he said, scooping her up into his arms. "Party's over. I'm putting you to bed."

/

Preparing for little Eito was a fun but exhausting process. Madara's last month on house arrest flew by as they spend time decorating the baby's corner in their bedroom, buying little baby clothes, and musing what their son would be like once he grew older.

Sakura was delighted to see Madara so happy with the impending arrival of his son, and the moment he was free from house arrest, he went to every doctor's appointment and found any excuse to take Sakura somewhere. They went on more dates to Pink Cantina, had picnics in the park, strolled through the farmer's market.

Madara had taken up sailing again rather quickly, and Sakura often hung out in the marina, watching while Madara and Hashirama went out on the boats. It was a pleasure to see him in his element again, to watch him rediscover what it meant to be truly happy. There was no doubt in Sakura's mind that he had found his center. Released from his family duties, engaged and expecting a baby. He was now a man who had it all. He never found a thing to complain about, always in a cheerful mood.

His doting on Sakura far exceeded her expectations. Her happiness was just as important to him as his own, if not more. He went to great lengths to ensure she was always comfortable, never cold or hungry or sore.

When her engagement ring finally arrived, she often found him staring at her hand, watching the glint of the ruby with a dazed smile on his face. She could not have been more in love with him.

One day, they sat on the dock by the boats, Sakura between Madara's legs, each of them with their hands wrapped around Sakura's engorged belly. The sun was setting, glittering off the gentle waves in the water.

Madara took Sakura's hand in his and held it up against the golden sky, admiring the ring on her finger. She felt his contented sigh against the back of her head and leaned back against his shoulder.

"Can I ask you something, Madara?"

He kissed her temple. "Anything, darling."

"Are you content to stay home and look after the baby once I go back to work?" she asked. "Do you think you'll enjoy it?"

"Spending all that time with my son? Definitely," he replied. "I'm beginning to think you rather like the idea of being the breadwinner in this family."

Sakura chuckled. "I'll hardly be the breadwinner since I could never afford the taxes on this house," she said. "Your wealth will still support us, obviously."

Madara let out an amused grunt. "You'll still be my little breadwinning wife," he mused, "and when you come home after a long day of research, I'll have Eito tucked into bed and hot dinner waiting for you on the table. It will be domestic bliss for both of us."

"Well, I'm glad you think so," she said, a smile stretching across her face. "I want to take good care of you, you know."

"You take very good care of me."

"You're going to learn how to cook, right?" she asked. "I can't eat any more burnt omelets."

Madara growled and pressed aggressively teasing kissed to the side of her face. "You'll eat what I make for you and you'll like it."

Sakura giggled. "You're not going to force our son to eat your monstrosities, too, are you?"

"Hopefully by the time he's eating solid food, I'll have become a better chef."

Before Sakura could respond, a sharp pain radiated from her stomach. She cried out and gripped her stomach, not expecting such intensity from a minor contraction.

"Are you alright?" Madara asked, moving up onto her knees. "What's wrong?"

A feeling of wetness dripped between her legs, just a trickle, but Sakura knew enough to realize what it was.

"I think my water broke."

/

Eito was already a stubborn boy, and Sakura suspicions about a big baby had turned out to be true. She writhed, drenched in sweat on the hospital bed, clinging to Madara's hand with white knuckles. Distantly, she could hear the doctor telling her to push over the roar in her ears. As if she weren't already pushing.

She gritted her teeth and tuned out the doctor's voice, trying to focus on getting this baby out of her. It should come as no surprise to her that she would have a big child since Madara towered nearly a foot over her. Still, it was excruciating and something she should have thought about before. Why hadn't she chose a shorter man?

"You're doing it, Sakura," Madara cooed. "That's it."

He had been unexpectedly calm during this rough labor, probably to help ease Sakura's mind. She had always thought herself to be the more level-headed one, but Madara's presence did bring a certain amount of peace to her. She knew he wouldn't leave her side.

Except he did, releasing her hand to wander down to the end of the bed where the doctor was pulling out a screaming, wet infant.

Sakura let out a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat from her brow. Almost ten hours of labor and she was dirty, exhausted, and hungry. She watched with the most raptness she could muster at the moment as the doctor wrapped the baby in a blanket and passed him into Madara's waiting arms.

"Look, darling," Madara said with a grin. His eyes were also plagued with dark shadows and Sakura was sure he was just as hungry as she was by now, but he had never once complained. Instead, he seemed to glow with the newness of parenthood, and even though he was holding their baby in his arms, Sakura couldn't take her eyes off of his face as he approached and placed the baby in her arms.

The infant's crying quelled nearly instantly, and Sakura glanced down at her son. He had adorably rounded cheeks and a fat cannoli fist that Sakura took between her fingers in awe. He _was _a big boy, and she knew he would grow up to be healthy and strong, and probably look just like his father.

"Looks like he's going to be a momma's boy," the doctor joked. Sakura tossed him a nasty glare, though she realized her suffering was the cause for her ill mood and not the poor man who was just doing his job.

The doctor glanced over to the nurse. "Let's give the new parents some privacy."

Once they were gone, Madara climbed into the bed beside Sakura and wrapped his arms around her. He peered down into the bundle in Sakura's arm and she could feel his heart racing wildly in his chest.

"I'm a father," he murmured to himself, extending his finger for little baby Eito to grab onto.

"He's going to look just like you," Sakura said. "Just look at those strong Uchiha features. What a handsome boy."

Madara rubbed her arm soothingly as they both smiled down at their baby. They were a family now and Sakura's heart felt so full that she could hardly stand it.

/

Sakura returned to work just a month after Eito had been born. She had been eager to return to her duties, though she was remiss to leave her son so soon. He was left in Madara's capable hands, who had quickly adapted to life as a father. All of the doting on Sakura had extended to Eito as well, and seeing him act so sweetly and tenderly with their son warmed Sakura to her core.

Eito was possibly the most spoiled boy on earth. Between Madara and Hashirama always doting on him, Tsunade, Ino, and Itachi were also desperate for the boy's attention. There was always someone around to hold him, to feed him his bottle or change his diaper. Sakura had thought that taking care of Eito would be a difficult and time-consuming task, but with so much help always available to her, it felt quite easy.

Madara continued to go sailing when Eito was in someone else's hands. He seemed to belong out there on the water and Sakura was glad that he could devote so much time to it now. He always came back from the marina relaxed and in a good mood, no matter how rough the day had been.

Rough days were few and far between, though. It was exactly the kind of domestic bliss Madara had predicted.

It wasn't until a few weeks after Eito's first birthday that Madara brought up their engagement again. They found themselves in the parlor, Sakura's feet in Madara's lap, each with a glass of wine in hand.

"What if we didn't have a big wedding?" Madara asked out of the blue.

Sakura raised a brow at him. "I thought you wanted a big wedding," she said. "You had it all planned out."

Madara shrugged. "It was a fantasy, I suppose," he mused, "but I'm already living my fantasy. We have so much going on with Eito all the time. And we haven't even started planning the wedding yet. I can't wait much longer for you to be my wife."

"What are you suggesting?"

"What if we just went down to the courthouse and got married?" he asked. "We can postpone our honeymoon until Eito is a little older. I know you're hesitant to leave him for a long period of time."

Sakura mulled this over. There had been a lot of parties and pomp lately. A wedding would be a much bigger event than she was prepared to deal with right now. She had grown quite comfortable in her life with Madara, and a honeymoon didn't feel so necessary right away. She just wanted to enjoy her time with her son for a while.

But she also couldn't wait to be married, to officially have Madara as her husband. She understood his eagerness and it made her feel deeply and ardently loved by him.

"Alright," she agreed. "Shall we go tomorrow? Hashirama and Mito were going to come over her lunch. They can watch Eito for us."

"Tomorrow! That eager to be my wife, are you?" Madara said with a teasing grin.

"I've been waiting for it for a while now."

Madara leaned over and kissed her, gripping her face in both hands. He smiled into their kiss and even though he had kissed her a million times by now, it still gave her butterflies.

"Today is your last day as a single woman, Sakura Haruno. Tomorrow you will be Sakura Uchiha," Madara said. "Would you like a bachelorette party tonight?"

"Do you want a bachelor party?" she tossed back.

Madara chuckled. "I would not complain if you wanted to give me a strip tease."

Sakura grinned at him and crawled into his lap. The wine had made her feel warm and bold, and she could not contain her excitement for the life she'd built herself with Madara Uchiha, her future husband.

"I'll give you much more than a strip tease."

/

AN: The end! Even though this story is far longer than I intended it to be, it's pretty short compared to some of my other fics. I realize I have a tendency to draw things out. Hopefully this fic hit that sweet spot.

My next project will be to start reposting Friendly Infections, however I'll begin writing a new fic soon so if you have a pairing or plot request, please leave a review or send me your request on tumblr ( force-healer).


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